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UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


f6l 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/collectednovelss01maup 


BOULE    DE   SUIF 

AND  OTHER   STORIES 


COPYRIGHT,    1922,    BY 
ALFRED   A.    KNOPF,    INC. 

Published,  October,  1922 
Second  Printing,  January,  1924 


Composition,  Elecfrotyping,  Prenswork  and  Binding  hy 

The  riimpton  Press,  Noncood,  Mass. 

Paper  furnished  by  W.  F.  Etkerhigimi  &  Co.,  New  York.  .V.  Y. 

MANUFACTURED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


CONTENTS 

BOULE  DE  SUIF  I 

MADAME  TELLIER'S  ESTABLISHMENT  59 

STORY  OF  A   FARM  GIRL  99 

A  COUNTRY   EXCURSION  125 

SIMON'S  FATHER  142 

A  FAMILY  AFFAIR  155 

ON  THE  RIVER  195 

PAUL'S  MISTRESS  203 

THE  DEAD  HAND  229 

AT  THE   CHURCH   DOOR  237 

LIEUTENANT  LARE'S  MARRIAGE  243 


BOULE    DE    SUIF 

FOR  several  days  in  succession  straggling  rem- 
nants of  the  routed  army  had  passed  through 
the  town.  They  were  not  the  regular  army, 
but  a  disjointed  rabble,  the  men  unshaven  and 
dirty,  their  uniforms  in  tatters,  slouching  along  with- 
out regimental  colors,  without  order  —  worn  out, 
broken  down,  incapable  of  thought  or  resolution, 
marching  from  pure  habit  and  dropping  with  fa- 
tigue the  moment  they  stopped.  The  majority 
belonged  to  the  mihtia,  men  of  peaceful  pursuits, 
retired  from  business,  sinking  under  the  weight  of 
their  accoutrements;  quick-witted  little  militiamen 
as  prone  to  terror  as  they  were  to  enthusiasm,  as 
ready  to  attack  as  they  were  to  fly;  and  here  and 
there  a  few  red  trousers,  remnants  of  a  company 
mowed  down  in  one  of  the  big  battles;  sombre- 
coated  artillerymen,  side  by  side  with  these  various 
uniforms  of  the  infantry,  and  now  and  then  the 
glittering  helmet  of  a  heavily  booted  dragoon  who 
followed  with  difficulty  the  march  of  the  lighter- 
footed  soldiers  of  the  line. 

Companies  of  franc-tireurs,  heroically  named 
"Avengers  of  the  Defeat,"  "Citizens  of  the  Tomb," 
"Companions  in  Death,"  passed  in  their  turn,  look- 
ing like  a  horde  of  bandits. 

Their  chiefs  —  formerly  drapers  or  corn-dealers, 

111 


BOULE    DE    SUIF 

retired  soap-boilers  or  suet-refiners,  temporary  he- 
roes, created  officers  for  their  money  or  the  length 
of  their  moustaches,  heaped  with  arms,  flannels, 
and  gold  lace  —  talked  loudly,  discussed  plans  of 
campaign,  and  gave  you  to  understand  that  they 
were  the  sole  support  of  France  in  her  death-agony; 
but  they  were  generally  in  terror  of  their  own 
soldiers,  gallows  birds,  most  of  them  brave  to 
fool-hardiness,  all  of  them  given  to  pillage  and 
debauchery. 

Report  said  that  the  Prussians  were  about  to 
enter  Rouen.  The  National  Guard,  which  for  two 
months  past  had  made  the  most  careful  reconnoitre- 
ings  in  the  neighbouring  wood,  even  to  the  extent  of 
occasionally  shooting  their  own  sentries  and  put- 
ting themselves  in  battle  array  if  a  rabbit  stirred  in 
the  brushwood,  had  now  retired  to  their  domestic 
hearths;  their  arms,  their  uniforms,  all  the  murder- 
ous apparatus  with  which  they  had  been  wont  to 
strike  terror  to  the  hearts  of  all  beholders  for  three 
leagues  round,  had  vanished. 

Finally,  the  last  of  the  French  soldiery  crossed 
the  Seine  on  their  way  to  Pont-Audemer  by  Saint 
Sever  and  Bourg-Achard;  and  then,  last  of  all, 
came  their  despairing  general  tramping  on  foot  be- 
tween two  orderlies,  powerless  to  attempt  any  ac- 
tion with  these  disjointed  fragments  of  his  forces, 
himself  utterly  dazed  and  bewildered  by  the  down- 
fall of  a  people  accustomed  to  victory  and  now  so 
disastrously  beaten  in  spite  of  its  traditional  bravery. 

After  that  a  profound  calm,  the  silence  of  terri- 
fied suspense,  fell  over  the  city.  Many  a  rotund 
bourgeois,  emasculated  by  a  purely  commercial  life, 

1:23 


BOULE    DE    SUIF 

awaited  the  arrival  of  the  victors  with  anxiety, 
trembling  lest  their  meat-skewers  and  kitchen  carv- 
ing-knives should  come  under  the  category  of  arms. 

Life  seemed  to  have  come  to  a  standstill,  the 
shops  were  closed,  the  streets  silent.  From  time  to 
time  an  inhabitant,  intimidated  by  their  silence, 
would  flit  rapidly  along  the  pavement,  keeping 
close  to  the  walls. 

In  this  anguish  of  suspense,  men  longed  for  the 
coming  of  the  enemy. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  day  following  the  de- 
parture of  the  French  troops,  some  Uhlans,  appear- 
ing from  goodness  knows  where,  traversed  the  city 
hastily.  A  little  later,  a  black  mass  descended  from 
the  direction  of  Sainte-Catherine,  while  two  more 
invading  torrents  poured  in  from  the  roads  from 
Darnetal  and  Boisguillaume.  The  advance  guards 
of  the  three  corps  converged  at  the  same  moment 
into  the  square  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  while  bat- 
talion after  battalion  of  the  German  army  wound  in 
through  the  adjacent  streets,  making  the  pavement 
ring  under  their  heavy  rhythmic  tramp. 

Orders  shouted  in  strange  and  guttural  tones  were 
echoed  back  by  the  apparently  dead  and  deserted 
houses,  while  from  behind  the  closed  shutters  eyes 
peered  furtively  at  the  conquerors,  masters  by 
right  of  might,  of  the  city  and  the  lives  and  fortunes 
of  its  inhabitants.  The  people  in  their  darkened 
dwellings  fell  a  prey  to  the  helpless  bewilderment 
which  comes  over  men  before  the  floods,  the  dev- 
astating upheavals  of  the  earth,  against  which  all 
wisdom  and  all  force  are  unavailing.  The  same 
phenomenon  occurs  each  time  that  the  established 


BOULE     DE     SU  I  F 

order  of  things  is  overthrown,  when  public  se- 
curity is  at  an  end,  and  when  all  that  the  laws  of 
man  or  of  nature  protect  is  at  the  mercy  of  some 
blind  elemental  force.  The  earthquake  burying 
an  entire  population  under  its  falling  houses;  the 
flood  that  carries  away  the  drowned  body  of  the 
peasant  with  the  carcasses  of  his  cattle  and  the 
beams  torn  from  his  roof-tree;  or  the  victorious 
army  massacring  those  who  defend  their  lives,  and 
making  prisoners  of  the  rest  —  pillaging  in  the 
name  of  the  sword,  and  thanking  God  to  the  roar 
of  cannon  —  are  so  many  appalling  scourges  which 
overthrow  all  faith  in  eternal  justice,  all  the  con- 
fidence we  are  taught  to  place  in  the  protection  of 
Providence  and  the  reason  of  man. 

Small  detachments  now  began  knocking  at  the 
doors  and  then  disappearing  into  the  houses.  It 
was  the  occupation  after  the  invasion.  It  now  be- 
hooved the  vanquished  to  make  themselves  agreeable 
to  the  victors. 

After  a  while,  the  first  alarms  having  subsided, 
a  new  sense  of  tranquillity  began  to  establish  it- 
self. In  many  families  the  Prussian  officer  shared 
the  family  meals.  Not  infrequently  he  was  a  gentle- 
man, and  out  of  politeness  expressed  his  commisera- 
tion with  France  and  his  repugnance  at  having  to 
take  part  in  such  a  war.  They  were  grateful  enough 
to  him  for  this  sentiment  —  besides,  who  knew 
when  they  might  not  be  glad  of  his  protection? 
By  gaining  his  good  offices  one  might  have  fewer 
men  to  feed.  And  why  offend  a  person  on  whom 
one  was  utterly  dependent?  That  would  not  be 
bravery  but  temerity,  a  quality  of  which  the  citizens 

1^1 


BOULE     DE    SU  I  F 

of  Rouen  could  no  longer  be  accused  as  in  the  days 
of  those  heroic  defences  by  which  the  city  had  made 
itself  famous.  Above  all,  they  said,  with  the  un- 
assailable urbanity  of  the  Frenchman,  it  was  surely 
permissible  to  be  on  poHtely  famihar  terms  in  pri- 
vate, provided  one  held  aloof  from  the  foreign  soldier 
in  pubHc.  In  the  street,  therefore,  they  ignored 
one  another's  existence,  but  once  indoors  they  were 
perfectly  ready  to  be  friendly,  and  each  evening 
found  the  German  staying  longer  at  the  family 
fireside. 

The  town  itself  gradually  regained  its  wonted 
aspect.  The  French  inhabitants  did  not  come  out 
much,  but  the  Prussian  soldiers  swarmed  in  the 
streets.  For  the  rest,  the  blue  hussar  officers  who 
trailed  their  mighty  implements  of  death  so  arro- 
gantly over  the  pavement  did  not  appear  to  enter- 
tain a  vastly  deeper  grade  of  contempt  for  the 
simple  townsfolk  than  did  the  officers  of  the  Chas- 
seurs who  had  drunk  in  the  same  cafes  the  year 
before.  Nevertheless  there  was  a  something  in  the 
air;  something  subtle  and  indefinable,  an  intolerably 
unfamiliar  atmosphere  like  a  widely  diffused  odour 
—  the  odour  of  invasion.  It  filled  the  private  dwell- 
ings and  the  public  places,  it  affected  the  taste  of 
food,  and  gave  one  the  impression  of  being  on  a 
journey,  far  away  from  home,  among  barbarous 
r  and  dangerous  tribes. 

The  conquerors  demanded  money  —  a  great  deal 
of  money.  The  inhabitants  paid  and  went  on  pay- 
ing; for  the  matter  of  that,  they  were  rich.  But 
the  wealthier  a  Normandy  tradesman  becomes,  the 
more  keenly  he  suffers  at  each  sacrifice  each  time  he 

1:53 


BOULE     DE    SUI  F 

sees  the  smallest  particle  of  his  fortune  pass  into 
the  hands  of  another. 

Two  or  three  leagues  beyond  the  town,  however, 
following  the  course  of  the  river  about  Croisset, 
Dieppedalle  or  Biessard,  the  sailors  and  the  fisher- 
men would  often  drag  up  the  swollen  corpse  of  some 
uniformed  German,  killed  by  a  knife-thrust  or  a 
kick,  his  head  smashed  in  by  a  stone,  or  thrown 
into  the  water  from  some  bridge.  The  slime  of 
the  river  bed  swallowed  up  many  a  deed  of  venge- 
ance, obscure,  savage,  and  legitimate;  unknown 
acts  of  heroism,  silent  onslaughts  more  perilous  to 
the  doer  than  battles  in  the  light  of  day  and  with- 
out the  trumpet  blasts  of  glory. 

For  hatred  of  the  Alien  is  always  strong  enough 
to  arm  some  intrepid  beings  who  are  ready  to  die 
for  an   Idea. 

At  last,  seeing  that  though  the  invaders  had  sub- 
jected the  city  to  their  inflexible  discipline  they  had 
not  committed  any  of  the  horrors  with  which  rumour 
had  accredited  them  throughout  the  length  of  their 
triumphal  progress,  the  public  took  courage  and 
the  commercial  spirit  began  once  more  to  stir  in 
the  hearts  of  the  local  tradespeople.  Some  of  them 
who  had  grave  interests  at  stake  at  Havre,  then 
occupied  by  the  French  army,  purposed  trying  to 
reach  that  port  by  going  overland  to  Dieppe  and 
there  taking  ship. 

They  took  advantage  of  the  influence  of  German 
officers  whose  acquaintance  they  had  made,  and  a 
passport  was  obtained  from  the  general  in  command. 

Having  therefore  engaged  a  large  diligence  with 
four  horses  for  the  journey,  and  ten  persons  having 

1163 


BOULE    DE    SUIF 

entered  their  names  at  the  livery  stable  office,  thej' 
resolved  to  start  on  the  Tuesday  morning  before 
daybreak,  to  avoid  all  public  remark. 

For  some  days  already  the  ground  had  been  hard 
with  frost,  and  on  the  Monday,  about  three  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  thick  dark  clouds  coming  up  from 
the  north  brought  the  snow,  which  fell  without  inter- 
mission all  the  evening  and  during  the  whole  night. 

At  half  past  four  the  travellers  were  assembled 
in  the  courtyard  of  the  Hotel  de  Normandie,  from 
whence  they  were  to  start. 

They  were  all  still  half  asleep,  their  teeth  chatter- 
ing with  cold  in  spite  of  their  thick  wraps.  It  was 
difficult  to  distinguish  one  from  another  in  the 
darkness,  their  heaped-up  winter  clothing  making 
them  look  like  fat  priests  in  long  cassocks.  Two 
of  the  men,  however,  recognized  each  other;  they 
were  joined  by  a  third,  and  they  began  to  talk. 
"I  am  taking  my  wife  with  me,"  said  one.  "So 
am  I."  "And  I  too."  The  first  one  added:  "We 
shall  not  return  to  Rouen,  and  if  the  Prussians 
come  to  Havre  we  shall  slip  over  to   England." 

They  were  all  like-minded  and  all  had  the  same 
project. 

Meanwhile  there  was  no  sign  of  the  horses  being 
put  in.  A  small  lantern  carried  by  a  hostler  appeared 
from  time  to  time  out  of  one  dark  doorway  only  to 
vanish  instantly  into  another.  There  was  a  stamp- 
ing of  horses'  hoofs  deadened  by  the  straw  of  the 
litter,  and  the  voice  of  a  man  speaking  to  the  ani- 
mal and  cursing  sounded  from  the  depths  of  the 
stables.  A  faint  sound  of  bells  gave  evidence  of 
harnessing,  and  became  presently  a  clear  and  con- 


BOULE     DE     SUIF 

tinuous  jingle  timed  by  the  movement  of  the  beast, 
now  stopping,  now  going  on  again  with  a  brisk 
shake,  and  accompanied  by  the  dull  tramp  of 
hob-nailed  sabots. 

A  door  closed  sharply.  All  sound  ceased.  The 
frozen  travellers  were  silent,  standing  stiff  and  mo- 
tionless. A  continuous  curtain  of  white  snow- 
flakes  ghstened  as  it  fell  to  the  ground,  blotting 
out  the  shape  of  things,  powdering  everything  with 
an  icy  froth;  and  in  the  utter  stillness  of  the  town, 
quiet  and  buried  under  its  winter  pall,  nothing  was 
audible  but  this  faint,  fluttering,  and  indefinable 
rustle  of  falling  snow  —  more  a  sensation  than  a 
sound  —  the  interminghng  of  ethereal  atoms  seem- 
ing to  fill  space,  to  cover  the  world. 

The  man  reappeared  with  his  lantern,  dragging 
after  him  by  a  rope  a  dejected  and  unwilling  horse. 
He  pushed  it  against  the  pole,  fixed  the  traces,  and 
was  occupied  for  a  long  time  in  buckling  the  harness, 
having  only  the  use  of  one  hand  as  he  carried  the 
lantern  in  the  other.  As  he  turned  away  to  fetch 
the  other  horse  he  caught  sight  of  the  motionless 
group  of  travellers,  by  this  time  white  with  snow. 
"Why  don't  you  get  inside  the  carriage?"  he  said, 
"you  would  at  least  be  under  cover." 

It  had  never  occurred  to  them,  and  they  made  a 
rush  for  it.  The  three  men  packed  their  wives  into 
the  upper  end  and  then  got  in  themselves,  after 
which  other  distinct  and  veiled  forms  took  the  re- 
maining seats  without  exchanging  a  word. 

The  floor  of  the  vehicle  was  covered  with  straw 
into  which  the  feet  sank.  The  ladies  at  the  end, 
who  had  brought  little  copper  charcoal  foot-warmers, 


BOULE     DE     SUIF 

proceeded  to  light  them,  and  for  some  time  discussed 
their  merits  in  subdued  tones,  repeating  to  one  an- 
other things  which  they  had  known  all  their  hves. 

At  last,  the  diligence  having  been  furnished  with 
six  horses  instead  of  four  on  account  of  the  difficul- 
ties of  the  road,  a  voice  outside  asked,  "  Is  every- 
body here?"  A  voice  from  within  answered  "Yes," 
and  they  started. 

The  conveyance  advanced  slowly  —  slowly  — 
the  wheels  sinking  in  the  snow;  the  whole  vehicle 
groaned  and  creaked,  the  horses  slipped,  wheezed, 
and  smoked,  and  the  driver's  gigantic  whip  cracked 
incessantly,  flying  from  side  to  side,  twining  and 
untwining  like  a  slender  snake,  and  cutting  sharply 
across  one  or  other  of  the  six  humping  backs,  which 
would  thereupon  straighten  up  with  a  more  violent 
eff"ort. 

Imperceptibly  the  day  grew.  The  airy  flakes 
which  a  traveller  —  a  true-born  Rouennais  —  likened 
to  a  shower  of  cotton,  had  ceased  to  fall;  a  dirty 
grey  light  filtered  through  the  heavy  thick  clouds 
which  served  to  heighten  the  dazzling  whiteness 
of  the  landscape,  where  now  a  long  line  of  trees 
crusted  with  icicles  would  appear,  now  a  cottage 
with  a  hood  of  snow. 

In  the  light  of  this  melancholy  dawn  the  occu- 
pants of  the  diligence  began  to  examine  one  another 
curiously. 

Right  at  the  end,  in  the  best  seats,  opposite  to 
one  another,  dozed  Madame  and  Monsieur  Loiseau, 
wholesale  wine  merchant  of  the  Rue  Grand  Pont. 

The  former  salesman  of  a  master  who  had  be- 
come bankrupt,  Loiseau  had  bought  up  the  stock 


BOULE     DE     SU  I  F 

and  made  his  fortune.  He  sold  very  bad  wine  at 
very  low  prices  to  the  small  country  retail  dealers, 
and  enjoyed  the  reputation  among  his  friends  and 
acquaintances  of  being  an  unmitigated  rogue,  a 
thorough  Norman  full  of  trickery  and  jovial  humour. 

His  character  for  knavery  was  so  well  estabhshed 
that  one  evening  at  the  Prefecture,  Monsieur 
Tournel,  a  man  of  keen  and  trenchant  wit,  author 
of  certain  fables  and  songs  —  a  local  celebrity  — 
seeing  the  ladies  growing  drowsy,  proposed  a  game 
of  "L'oiseau  vole."^  The  pun  itself  flew  through 
the  prefect's  reception  rooms  and  afterwards  through 
the  town,  and  for  a  whole  month  called  up  a  grin 
on  every  face  in  the  province. 

Loiseau  was  himself  a  noted  wag  and  famous 
for  his  jokes  both  good  and  bad,  and  nobody  ever 
mentioned  him  without  adding  immediately,  "That 
man,   Loiseau,   is  simply  priceless!" 

He  was  of  medium  height  with  a  balloon-like 
stomach  and  a  rubicund  face  framed  in  grizzled 
whiskers.  His  wife  —  tall,  strong,  resolute,  loud  in 
voice  and  rapid  of  decision — represented  order  and 
arithmetic  in  the  business,  which  he  enlivened  by 
his  jollity  and  bustling  activity. 

Beside  them,  in  a  more  dignified  attitude  as  be- 
fitted his  superior  station,  sat  Monsieur  Carre- 
Lamadon,  a  man  of  weight;  an  authority  on  cotton, 
proprietor  of  three  spinning  factories,  officer  of  the 
Legion  of  Honour  and  member  of  the  General  Coun- 
cil. All  the  time  of  the  Empire  he  had  remained 
leader  of  a  friendly  opposition,   for  the  sole  pur- 

1  Literally,  "  The  bird  flies  "  —  a  pun  on  the  verb  voler,  %vhich 
means  both  "  to  fly  "  and  "  to  steal." 


BOULE     DE     SU  IF 

pose  of  making  a  better  thing  out  of  it  when  he 
came  round  to  the  cause  which  he  had  fought  with 
pohte  weapons,  to  use  his  own  expression.  Madame 
Carre-Lamadon,  who  was  much  younger  than  her 
husband,  was  the  consolation  of  all  officers  of  good 
family  who  might  be  quartered  at  the  Rouen  garri- 
son. She  sat  there  opposite  to  her  husband,  very 
small,  very  dainty,  very  pretty,  wrapped  in  her 
furs,  and  regarding  the  lamentable  interior  of  the 
vehicle  with  despairing  eyes. 

Their  neighbours,  the  Count  and  Countess  Hu- 
bert de  Breville,  bore  one  of  the  most  ancient  and 
noble  names  in  Normandy.  The  Count,  an  elderly 
gentleman  of  dignified  appearance,  did  all  in  his 
power  to  accentuate  by  every  artifice  of  the  toilet 
his  natural  resemblance  to  Henri  Quatre,  who, 
according  to  a  legend  of  the  utmost  glory  to  the 
family,  had  honoured  with  his  royal  embraces  a 
Dame  de  Breville,  whose  husband,  in  consequence, 
had  been  made  Count  and  Governor  of  the  province. 

A  colleague  of  Monsieur  Carre-Lamadon  in  the 
General  Council,  Count  Hubert  represented  the  Or- 
leanist  faction  in  the  department.  The  history  of 
his  marriage  with  the  daughter  of  a  small  tradesman 
of  Nantes  had  always  remained  a  mystery.  But  as 
the  Countess  had  an  air  of  grandeur,  understood 
better  than  any  one  else  the  art  of  receiving,  passed 
even  for  having  been  beloved  by  one  of  the  sons  of 
Louis  Philippe,  the  neighbouring  nobility  bowed 
down  to  her,  and  her  salon  held  the  first  place  in 
the  county,  the  only  one  which  preserved  the  tradi- 
tions of  old-fashioned  gallantry  and  to  which  the 
entree  was  difficult. 


BOULE    DE    SUIF 

The  fortune  of  the  Brevilles  —  all  in  Govern- 
ment Funds  —  was  reported  to  yield  them  an 
income  of  five  hundred   thousand   francs. 

The  six  passengers  occupied  the  upper  end  of  the 
conveyance,  the  representatives  of  revenued  so- 
ciety, serene  in  the  consciousness  of  its  strength 
—  honest  well-to-do  people  possessed  of  ReHgion 
and  Principles. 

By  some  strange  chance  all  the  women  were  seated 
on  the  same  side,  the  Countess  having  two  Sisters 
of  Mercy  for  neighbours,  wholly  occupied  in  finger- 
ing their  long  rosaries  and  mumbling  Paters  and 
Aves.  One  of  them  was  old  and  so  deeply  pitted 
with  the  smallpox  that  she  looked  as  if  she  had 
received  a  charge  of  grape-shot  full  in  the  face; 
the  other  was  very  shadowy  and  frail,  with  a  pretty 
unhealthy  little  face,  a  narrow  phthisical  chest, 
consumed  by  that  devouring  faith  which  creates 
martyrs  and  ecstatics. 

Seated  opposite  to  the  two  nuns  were  a  man  and 
woman  who  excited  a  good  deal  of  attention. 

The  man,  who  was  well  known,  was  Cornudet, 
"the  Democrat,"  the  terror  of  all  respectable,  law- 
abiding  people.  For  twenty  years  he  had  dipped  his 
great  red  beard  into  the  beer  mugs  of  all  the  demo- 
cratic cafes.  In  the  company  of  kindred  spirits 
he  had  managed  to  run  through  a  comfortable  little 
fortune  inherited  from  his  father,  a  confectioner, 
and  he  looked  forward  with  impatience  to  the  Re- 
public, when  he  should  obtain  the  well-merited  re- 
ward for  so  many  revolutionary  draughts.  On  the 
Fourth  of  September  —  probably  through  some 
practical  joke  —  he  understood  that  he  had  been 

1:12: 


BOULE     DE    SUIF 

appointed  prefect,  but  on  attempting  to  enter 
upon  his  duties  the  clerks,  who  had  remained  sole 
masters  of  the  offices,  refused  to  recognize  him,  and 
he  was  constrained  to  retire.  For  the  rest,  he  was 
a  good  fellow,  inoffensive  and  serviceable,  and  had 
busied  himself  with  incomparable  industry  in  organ- 
izing the  defence  of  the  town;  had  had  holes  dug  all 
over  the  plain,  cut  down  all  the  young  trees  in  the 
neighbouring  woods,  scattered  pitfalls  up  and  down  all 
the  high  roads,  and  at  the  threatened  approach  of  the 
enemy  —  satisfied  with  his  preparations  —  had  fallen 
back  with  all  haste  on  the  town.  He  now  considered 
that  he  would  be  more  useful  in  Havre,  where  fresh 
entrenchments  would  soon  become  necessary. 

The  woman,  one  of  the  so-called  "gay"  sister- 
hood, was  noted  for  her  precocious  stoutness,  which 
had  gained  her  the  nickname  of  "Boule  de  Suif '* 
—  "ball  of  fat."  She  was  a  little  roly-poly  creature, 
cushioned  with  fat,  with  podgy  fingers  squeezed 
in  at  the  joints  like  rows  of  thick,  short  sausages; 
her  skin  tightly  stretched  and  shiny,  her  bust 
enormous,  and  yet  she  was  attractive  and  much 
sought  after,  her  freshness  was  so  pleasant.  Her 
face  was  like  a  ruddy  apple  —  a  peony  rose  just 
burst  into  bloom  —  and  out  of  it  gazed  a  pair  of 
magnificent  dark  eyes  overshadowed  by  long  thick 
lashes  that  deepened  their  blackness;  and  lower 
down,  a  charming  little  mouth,  dewy  to  the  kiss, 
and  furnished  with  a  row  of  tiny  milk-white  teeth. 
Over  and  above  all  this  she  was,  they  said,  full  of 
inestimable  qualities. 

No  sooner  was  her  identity  recognized  than  a 
whisper  ran  through  the  ladies  in  which  the  words 

1:133 


BOULE     DE     SUIF 

"prostitute"  and  "public  scandal,"  were  so  con- 
spicuously distinct  that  she  raised  her  head  and 
retahated  by  sweeping  her  companions  with  such 
a  bold  and  defiant  look  that  deep  silence  instantly 
fell  upon  them,  and  they  all  cast  down  their  eyes 
with  the  exception  of  Lciseau,  who  watched  her 
with  a  kindling  eye. 

However,  conversation  was  soon  resumed  be- 
tween the  three  ladies,  whom  the  presence  of  this 
"person."  had  suddenly  rendered  friendly  —  almost 
intimate.  It  seemed  to  them  that  they  must,  as 
it  were,  raise  a  rampart  of  their  dignity  as  spouses 
between  them  and  this  shameless  creature  who 
made  a  traffic  of  herself;  for  legalized  love  always 
takes  a  high  hand  with  her  unlicensed  sister. 

The  three  men  too,  drawn  to  one  another  by  a 
conservative  instinct  at  sight  of  Cornudet,  talked 
money  in  a  certain  tone  of  contempt  for  the  impe- 
cunious. Count  Hubert  spoke  of  the  damage  in- 
flicted on  him  by  the  Prussians,  of  the  losses  which 
would  result  to  him  from  the  seizing  of  cattle  and 
from  ruined  crops,  but  with  all  the  assurance  of 
a  great  landed  proprietor,  ten  times  millionaire, 
whom  these  ravages  might  inconvenience  for  the 
space  of  a  year  at  most.  Monsieur  Carre-Lamadon, 
of  great  experience  in  the  cotton  industry,  had 
taken  the  precaution  to  send  six  hundred  thousand 
francs  across  to  England  as  provision  against  a 
rainy  day.  As  for  Loiseau,  he  made  arrangements 
to  sell  all  the  common  wines  in  his  cellars  to  the 
French  commission  of  supplies,  consequently  the 
Government  owed  him  a  formidable  sum,  which  he 
counted  upon  receiving  at  Havre. 

C143 


BOULE     DE    SUIF 

The  three  exchanged  rapid  and  amicable  glances. 
Although  differing  in  position  they  felt  themselves 
brothers  in  money,  and  of  the  great  freemasonry 
of  those  who  possess,  of  those  who  can  make 
the  gold  jingle  when  they  put  their  hands  in  the 
breeches-pockets. 

The  diligence  went  so  slowly  that  by  ten  o'clock 
in  the  morning  they  had  not  made  four  leagues. 
The  men  got  out  three  times  and  climbed  the  hill 
on  foot.  They  began  to  grow  anxious,  for  they 
were  to  have  lunched  at  Totes,  and  now  they  de- 
spaired of  reaching  that  place  before  night.  Every- 
body was  on  the  look-out  for  some  inn  by  the  way, 
when  the  vehicle  stuck  fast  in  a  snow-drift,  and  it 
took  two  hours  to  get  it  out. 

Meanwhile  the  pangs  of  hunger  began  to  affect 
them  severely  both  in  mind  and  body,  and  yet  not 
an  inn,  not  a  tavern  even,  was  to  be  seen;  the 
approach  of  the  Prussians  and  the  passage  of  the 
famished  French  troops  had  frightened  away  all 
trade. 

The  gentlemen  foraged  dihgently  for  the  pro- 
visions in  the  farms  by  the  roadside;  but  they  failed 
to  obtain  so  much  as  a  piece  of  bread,  for  the  mis- 
trustful peasant  hid  all  reserve  stores  for  fear  of 
being  pillaged  by  the  soldiers,  who,  having  no  food 
supplied  to  them,  took  by  force  everything  they 
could  lay  their  hands  on. 

Towards  one  o'clock  Loiseau  announced  that  he 
felt  a  very  decided  void  in  his  stomach.  Every- 
body had  been  suffering  in  the  same  manner  for  a 
long  time,  and  the  violent  longing  for  food  had 
extinguished  conversation. 

1:153 


BOULE    DE    SUI  F 

From  time  to  time  some  one  would  yawn,  to  be 
almost  immediately  imitated  by  another  and  then 
each  of  the  rest  in  turn,  and  according  to  their  dis- 
position, manners,  or  social  standing,  would  open 
their  mouth  noisily,  or  modestly  cover  with  the 
hand  the  gaping  cavity  from  which  the  breath 
issued  in  a  vapour. 

Boule  de  Suif  had  several  times  stooped  down  as 
if  feehng  for  something  under  her  skirts.  She 
hesitated  a  moment,  looked  at  her  companions, 
and  then  composedly  resumed  her  former  position. 
The  faces  were  pale  and  drawn.  Loiseau  declared 
he  would  give  a  thousand  francs  for  a  ham.  His 
wife  made  a  faint  movement  as  to  protest,  but  re- 
strained herself.  It  always  affected  her  painfully  to 
hear  of  money  being  thrown  away,  nor  could  she 
even  understand  a  joke  upon  the  subject. 

"To  tell  the  truth,"  said  the  Count,  "I  do  not 
feel  quite  myself  either  —  how  could  I  have  omitted 
to  think  of  bringing  provisions?"  And  everybody 
reproached  themselves  with  the  same  neglectfulness. 

Cornudet,  however,  had  a  flask  of  rum  which  he 
offered  round.  It  was  coldly  refused.  Loiseau 
alone  accepted  a  mouthful,  and  handed  back  the 
flask  with  thanks  saying,  '*  That's  good!  that  warms 
you  up  and  keeps  the  hunger  off  a  bit."  The 
alcohol  raised  his  spirits  somewhat,  and  he  pro- 
posed that  they  should  do  the  same  as  on  the  little 
ship  in  the  song  —  eat  the  fattest  of  the  passengers. 
This  indirect  but  obvious  allusion  to  Boule  de  Suif 
shocked  the  gentle  people.  Nobody  responded  and 
only  Cornudet  smiled.  The  two  Sisters  of  Mercy 
had  ceased  to  tell  their  beads  and  sat  motionless, 

i:i63 


BOULE     DE    SUIF 

their  hands  buried  in  their  wide  sleeves,  their  eyes 
obstinately  lowered,  doubtless  engaged  in  offering 
back  to  Heaven  the  sacrifice  of  suffering  which  it 
sent  them. 

At  last,  at  three  o'clock,  when  they  were  in  the 
middle  of  an  interminable  stretch  of  bare  country 
without  a  single  village  in  sight,  Boule  de  Suif, 
stooping  hurriedly,  drew  from  under  the  seat  a 
large  basket  covered  with  a  white  napkin. 

Out  of  it  she  took,  first  of  all,  a  little  china  plate 
and  a  delicate  silver  drinking-cup,  and  then  an 
immense  dish,  in  which  two  whole  fowls  ready 
carved  lay  stiffened  in  their  jelly.  Other  good 
things  were  visible  in  the  basket:  patties,  fruits, 
pastry  —  in  fact  provisions  for  a  three  days'  journey 
in  order  to  be  independent  of  inn  cookery.  The 
necks  of  four  bottles  protruded  from  between  the 
parcels  of  food.  She  took  the  wing  of  a  fowl  and 
began  to  eat  it  daintily  with  one  of  those  little  rolls 
which  they   call   "Regence"   in   Normandy. 

Every  eye  was  fixed  upon  her.  As  the  odour  of 
the  food  spread  through  the  carriage  nostrils  began 
to  quiver  and  mouths  to  fill  with  water,  while  the 
jaws,  just  below  the  ears,  contracted  painfully.  The 
dislike  entertained  by  the  ladies  for  this  abandoned 
young  woman  grew  savage,  almost  to  the  point  of 
longing  to  murder  her  or  at  least  to  turn  her  out 
into  the  snow,  her  and  her  drinking-cup  and  her 
basket  and  her  provisions. 

Loiseau,  however,  was  devouring  the  dish  of 
chicken  with  his  eyes.  "Madame  has  been  more 
prudent  than  we,"  he  said.  "Some  people  always 
think  of  everything." 

Li?] 


BOULE    DE    SUIF 

She  turned  her  head  in  his  direction.  "If  you 
would  care  for  any.  Monsieur  —  ?  It  is  not  com- 
fortable to  fast  for  so  long." 

He  bowed.  "By  Jove!  —  frankly,  I  won't  refuse. 
I  can't  stand  this  any  longer  —  the  fortune  of  war, 
is  it  not,  madame?"  And  with  a  comprehensive 
look  he  added:  "In  moments  such  as  this  we  are 
only  too  glad  to  find  any  one  who  will  oblige  us." 
He  had  a  newspaper  which  he  spread  on  his  knee 
to  save  his  trousers,  and  with  the  point  of  a  knife 
which  he  always  carried  in  his  pocket  he  captured 
a  drumstick  all  glazed  with  jelly,  tore  it  with  his 
teeth,  and  then  proceeded  to  chew  it  with  satisfac- 
tion so  evident  that  a  deep  groan  of  distress  went  up 
from  the  whole  party. 

Upon  this  Boule  de  Suif  in  a  gentle  and  humble 
tone  invited  the  two  Sisters  to  share  the  collation. 
They  both  accepted  on  the  spot,  and  without  rais- 
ing their  eyes  began  to  eat  very  hurriedly,  after 
stammering  a  few  words  of  thanks.  Nor  did  Cornu- 
det  refuse  his  neighbour's  offer,  and  with  the  Sisters 
they  formed  a  kind  of  table  by  spreading  out  news- 
papers on  their  knees. 

The  jaws  opened  and  shut  without  a  pause,  biting, 
chewing,  gulping  ferociously.  Loiseau,  hard  at  work 
in  his  corner,  urged  his  wife  in  a  low  voice  to  follow 
his  example.  She  resisted  for  some  time,  then,  after 
a  pang  which  gripped  her  very  vitals,  she  gave  in. 
Whereupon  her  husband,  rounding  off  his  phrases, 
asked  if  their  "charming  fellow-traveller"  would 
permit  him  to  offer  a  little  something  to  Madame 
Loiseau. 

"Why,  yes,  certainly,  Monsieur,"  she  answered 


BOULE     DE    SU  I  F 

with  a  pleasant  smile,  and  handed  him  the  dish. 

There  was  a  moment  of  embarrassment  when  the 
first  bottle  of  claret  was  uncorked  —  there  was  but 
the  one  drinking-cup.  Each  one  wiped  it  before 
passing  it  to  the  rest.  Cornudet  alone,  from  an 
imp'ilse  of  gallantry  no  doubt,  placed  his  lips  on 
the   spot  still  wet  from  the  lips  of  his  neighbour. 

Then  it  was  that,  surrounded  by  people  who  were 
eating,  suffocated  by  the  fragrant  odour  of  the 
viands,  the  Count  and  Countess  de  Breville  and 
Monsieur  and  Madame  Carre-Lamadon  suffered 
the  agonies  of  that  torture  which  has  ever  been 
associated  with  the  name  of  Tantalus.  Suddenly  the 
young  wife  of  the  cotton  manufacturer  gave  a  deep 
sigh.  Every  head  turned  towards  her;  she  was  as 
white  as  the  snow  outside,  her  eyes  closed,  her  head 
fell  forward  —  she  had  fainted.  Her  husband,  dis- 
traught with  fear,  implored  assistance  of  the  whole 
company.  All  lost  their  heads  till  the  elder  of  the 
two  Sisters,  who  supported  the  unconscious  lady, 
forced  Boule  de  Suif's  drinking-cup  between  her 
lips  and  made  her  swallow  a  few  drops  of  wine.  The 
pretty  creature  stirred,  opened  her  eyes,  smiled  and 
then  declared  in  an  expiring  voice  that  she  felt  quite 
well  now.  But  to  prevent  her  being  overcome  again 
in  the  same  manner,  the  Sister  induced  her  to  drink 
a  full  cup  of  wine,  adding,  "  It  is  simply  hunger  — 
nothing  else." 

At  this  Boule  de  Suif,  blushing  violently,  looked 
at  the  four  starving  passengers  and  faltered  shyly, 
*' Mon  Dieu!  If  I  might  make  so  bold  as  to  offer 
the  ladies  and  gentlemen  — "  She  stopped  short, 
fearing  a  rude  rebuff. 


BOULE     DE     SUIF 

Loiseau,  however,  at  once  threw  himself  into  the 
breach.  '' Parbleu!  under  such  circumstances  we 
are  all  companions  in  misfortune  and  bound  to 
help  each  other.  Come,  ladies,  don't  stand  on  cere- 
mony—  take  what  you  can  get  and  be  thankful: 
who  knows  whether  v/e  shall  be  able  to  fmd  so  much 
as  a  house  where  we  can  spend  the  night?  At  this 
rate  we  shall  not  reach  Totes  till  to-morrow  after- 
noon." 

They  still  hesitated,  nobody  having  the  courage 
to  take  upon  themselves  the  responsibility  of  the 
decisive  "Yes."  Finally  the  Count  seized  the  bull 
by  the  horns.  Adopting  his  most  grandiose  air,  he 
turned  with  a  bow  to  the  embarrassed  young  woman 
and  said,  "We  accept  your  offer  with  thanks,  ma- 
dame." 

The  first  step  only  was  difficult.  The  Rubicon 
once  crossed,  they  fell  to  with  a  will.  They  emptied 
the  basket,  which  contained,  besides  the  provisions 
already  mentioned:  a  pate  de  foie  gras,  a  lark  pie, 
a  piece  of  smoked  tongue,  some  pears,  a  slab  of 
gingerbread,  mixed  biscuits,  and  a  cup  of  pickled 
onions  and  gherkins  in  vinegar  —  for,  like  all  women, 
Boule  de  Suif  adored  pickles. 

They  could  not  well  eat  the  young  woman's  provi- 
sions and  not  speak  to  her,  so  they  conversed  — 
stiffly  at  first,  and  then,  seeing  that  she  showed  no 
signs  of  presuming,  with  less  reserve.  Mesdames 
de  Breville  and  Carre-Lamadon,  having  a  great 
deal  of  savoir  vivre,  knew  how  to  make  themselves 
agreeable  with  tact  and  delicacy.  The  Countess, 
in  particular,  exhibited  the  amiable  condescension 
of  the  extremely  high-born  lady  whom  no  contact 

1:20: 


BOULE     DE     SUI  F 

can  sully,  and  was  charming.  But  big  Madame 
Loiseau,  who  had  the  soul  of  a  gendarme,  remained 
unmoved,  speaking  Httle  and  eating  much. 

The  conversation  naturally  turned  upon  the  war. 
They  related  horrible  deeds  committed  by  the 
Prussians  and  examples  of  the  bravery  of  the  French; 
all  these  people  who  were  flying  rendering  full  hom- 
age to  the  courage  of  those  who  remained  behind. 
Incidents  of  personal  experience  soon  followed,  and 
Boule  de  Suif  told,  with  that  warmth  of  colouring 
which  women  of  her  type  often  employ  in  expressing 
their  natural  feelings,  how  she  had  come  to  leave 
Rouen. 

"I  thought  at  first  I  should  be  able  to  hold  out," 
she  said,  "for  I  had  plenty  of  provisions  in  my 
house,  and  would  much  rather  feed  a  few  soldiers 
than  turn  out  of  my  home  and  go  goodness  knows 
where.  But  when  I  saw  them  —  these  Prussians 
—  it  was  too  much  for  me.  They  made  my  blood 
boil  with  rage,  and  I  cried  the  whole  day  for  shame. 
Oh,  if  I  had  only  been  a  man!  —  well,  there!  I 
watched  them  from  my  window  —  fat  pigs  that 
they  were  with  their  spiked  helmets  —  and  my 
servant  had  to  hold  my  hands  to  prevent  me  throw- 
ing the  furniture  down  on  the  top  of  them.  Then 
some  of  them  came  to  be  quartered  on  me,  and  I 
flew  at  the  throat  of  the  first  one  —  they  are  not 
harder  to  strangle  than  any  one  else  —  and  would 
have  finished  him  too  if  they  had  not  dragged  me 
off"  by  the  hair.  Of  course  I  had  to  he  low  after  that. 
So  as  soon  as  I  found  an  opportunity  I  left  —  and 
here  I  am." 

Everybody    congratulated    her.      She    rose    con- 

1:21: 


BOULE    DE    SUI  F 

siderably  in  the  estimation  of  her  companions,  who 
had  not  shown  themselves  of  such  vahant  mettle,  and 
hstening  to  her  tale,  Cornudet  smiled  the  benignant 
and  approving  smile  of  an  apostle  —  as  a  priest 
might  on  hearing  a  devout  person  praise  the  Al- 
mighty; democrats  with  long  beards  having  the 
monopoly  of  patriotism  as  the  men  of  the  cassock 
possess  that  of  religion.  He  then  took  up  the 
parable  in  a  didactic  tone  with  the  phraseology 
culled  from  the  notices  posted  each  day  on  the  walls, 
and  finished  up  with  a  flourish  of  eloquence  in 
which  he  scathingly  alluded  to  "that  blackguard 
Badinguet."  ^ 

But  Boule  de  Suif  fired  up  at  this  for  she  was  a 
Bonapartist.  She  turned  upon  him  with  scarlet 
cheeks  and  stammering  with  indignation,  "Ah!  I 
should  just  like  to  have  seen  any  of  you  in  his  place! 
A  nice  mess  you  would  have  made  of  it!  It  is  men 
of  your  sort  that  ruined  him,  poor  man.  There 
would  be  nothing  for  it  but  to  leave  France  for 
good  if  we  were  governed  by  cowards  like  you!" 

Cornudet,  nothing  daunted,  preserved  a  disdainful 
and  superior  smile,  but  there  was  a  feeling  in  the  air 
that  high  words  would  soon  follow,  whereupon  the 
Count  interposed,  and  managed,  not  without  diffi- 
culty, to  quiet  the  infuriated  young  woman  by 
asserting  authoritatively  that  every  sincere  opinion 
was  to  be  respected.  Nevertheless  the  Countess 
and  the  manufacturer's  wife,  who  nourished  in 
their  hearts  the  unreasoning  hatred  of  all  well-bred 
people  for  the  Republic  and  at  the  same  time  that 
instinctive  weakness  of  all  women  for  uniformed  and 

1  Nickname  for  Napoleon  III. 
1:223 


BOULE    DE    SUIF 

despotic  governments,  felt  drawn,  in  spite  of  them- 
selves, to  this  woman  of  the  street  who  had  so 
much  sense  of  the  fitness  of  things  and  whose 
opinions  so  closely  resembled  their  own. 

The  basket  was  empty  —  this  had  not  been  diffi- 
cult among  ten  of  them  —  they  only  regretted  it 
was  not  larger.  The  conversation  was  kept  up  for 
some  httle  time  longer,  although  somewhat  more 
coldly  after  they  had  finished  eating. 

The  night  fell,  the  darkness  grew  gradually  more 
profound,  and  the  cold,  to  which  digestion  rendered 
them  more  sensitive,  made  even  Boule  de  Suif 
shiver  in  spite  of  her  fat.  Madame  de  Breville  there- 
upon offered  her  her  charcoal  foot-warmer,  which 
had  been  replenished  several  times  since  the  morn- 
ing; she  accepted  with  alacrity,  for  her  feet  were 
like  ice.  Mesdames  Carre-Lamadon  and  Loiseau 
lent  theirs  to  the  two  Sisters. 

The  driver  had  lit  his  lanterns,  which  shed  a 
vivid  light  over  the  cloud  of  vapour  that  hung  over 
the  steaming  backs  of  the  horses  and  over  the  snow 
at  each  side  of  the  road,  which  seemed  to  open  out 
under  the  shifting  reflection  of  the  lights. 

Inside  the  conveyance  nothing  could  be  dis- 
tinguished any  longer,  but  there  was  a  sudden 
movement  between  Boule  de  Suif  and  Cornudet, 
and  Loiseau,  peering  through  the  gloom,  fancied 
he  saw  the  man  with  the  beard  start  back  quickly 
as  if  he  had  received  a  well-directed  but  noiseless 
blow. 

Tiny  points  of  fire  appeared  upon  the  road  in 
front.  It  was  Totes.  The  travellers  had  been  driv- 
ing for  eleven  hours,  which,  with  the  four  half-hours 

1:23: 


BOULE     DE     SU  IF 

for  food  and  rest  to  the  horses,  made  thirteen.  They 
entered  the  town  and  stopped  in  front  of  the  Hotel 
du   Commerce. 

The  door  opened.  A  famihar  sound  caused  every 
passenger  to  tremble  —  it  was  the  clink  of  a  scabbard 
on  the  stones.  At  the  same  moment  a  German 
voice  called  out  something. 

Although  the  dihgence  had  stopped,  nobody  at- 
tempted to  get  out,  as  though  they  expected  to  be 
massacred  on  setting  foot  to  the  ground.  The 
driver  then  appeared  holding  up  one  of  the  lanterns, 
which  suddenly  illumined  the  vehicle  to  its  farthest 
corner  and  revealed  the  two  rows  of  bewildered 
faces  with  their  open  mouths  and  startled  eyes  wide 
with  alarm. 

Beside  the  driver  in  the  full  glare  of  the  light 
stood  a  German  officer,  a  tall  young  man  excessively 
slender  and  blonde,  compressed  into  his  uniform 
like  a  girl  in  her  stays,  and  wearing,  well  over  one 
ear,  a  flat  black  wax-cloth  cap  hke  the  "Boots" 
of  an  English  hotel.  His  preposterously  long 
moustache,  which  was  drawn  out  stiff  and  straight, 
and  tapered  away  indefinitely  to  each  side  till  it 
finished  off  in  a  single  thread  so  thin  that  it  was 
impossible  to  say  where  it  ended,  seemed  to  weigh 
upon  the  corners  of  his  mouth  and  form  a  deep  furrow 
in  either  cheek. 

In  Alsatian-French  and  stern  accents  he  in- 
vited the  passengers  to  descend:  "Vill  you  get  out, 
chentlemen  and  laties? " 

The  two  Sisters  were  the  first  to  obey  with  the 
docility  of  holy  women  accustomed  to  unfaltering 
submission.     The   Count   and   Countess   appeared 

C24II 


BOULE     DE     SUI  F 

next,  followed  by  the  manufacturer  and  his  wife, 
and  after  them  Loiseau  pushing  his  better  half  in 
front  of  him.  As  he  set  foot  to  the  ground  he  re- 
marked to  the  officer,  more  from  motives  of  pru- 
dence than  politeness,  "Good  evening,  Monsieur," 
to  which  the  other  with  the  insolence  of  the  man  in 
possession,  vouchsafed  no  reply  but  a  stare. 

Boule  de  Suif  and  Cornudet,  though  the  nearest 
the  door,  were  the  last  to  emerge  —  grave  and 
haughty  in  face  of  the  enemy.  The  buxom  young 
woman  struggled  hard  to  command  herself  and  be 
calm;  the  democrat  tugged  at  his  long  rusty  beard 
with  a  tragic  and  slightly  trembling  hand.  They 
sought  to  preserve  their  dignity,  realizing  that  in 
such  encounters  each  one,  to  a  certain  extent, 
represents  his  country;  and  the  two  being  similarly 
disgusted  at  the  servile  readiness  of  their  com- 
panions, she  endeavored  to  show  herself  prouder 
than  her  fellow  travellers  who  were  honest  women, 
while  he,  feeling  that  he  must  set  an  example,  con- 
tinued in  his  attitude  his  mission  of  resistance  be- 
gun by  digging  pitfalls  in  the  high  roads. 

They  all  entered  the  huge  kitchen  of  the  inn,  and 
the  German,  having  been  presented  with  the  pass- 
port signed  by  the  general  in  command  —  where 
each  traveller's  name  was  accompanied  by  a  per- 
sonal description  and  a  statement  as  to  his  or  her 
profession  —  he  proceeded  to  scrutinize  the  party 
for  a  long  time,  comparing  the  persons  with  the 
written  notices. 

Finally,  he  exclaimed  unceremoniously,  "  That's 
all  right,"  and  disappeared. 

They  breathed  again  more  freely.     Hunger  hav- 


BOULE    DE    SUIF 

Ing  reasserted  itself,  supper  was  ordered.  It  would 
take  half  an  hour  to  prepare,  so  while  two  servants 
were  apparently  busied  about  it  the  travellers  dis- 
persed to  look  at  their  rooms.  These  were  all  to- 
gether down  each  side  of  a  long  passage  ending  in 
a  door  marked  "Toilet." 

At  last,  just  as  they  were  sitting  down  to  table, 
the  innkeeper  himself  appeared.  He  was  a  former 
horsedealer,  a  stout  asthmatic  man  with  perpetual 
wheezings  and  blowings  and  ratthngs  of  phlegm  in 
his  throat.  His  father  had  transmitted  to  him  the 
name  of  FoIIenvie. 

"Mademoiselle  Ehzabeth  Rousset?  "  he  said. 

Boule  de  Suif  started  and  turned  round.  "That 
is  my  name." 

"Mademoiselle,  the  Prussian  officer  wants  to 
speak  to  you  at  once." 

"To   me?" 

"Yes,  if  you  really  are  Mademoiselle  Elizabeth 
Rousset." 

She  hesitated,  thought  for  a  moment,  and  then 
declared  roundly:  "That  may  be,  but  I'm  not 
going." 

There  was  a  movement  round  about  her  —  every- 
body was  much  exercised  as  to  the  reason  of  this 
summons.     The  Count  came  over  to  her. 

"You  may  do  wrong  to  refuse,  madame,  for  it 
may  entail  considerable  annoyance  not  only  on 
yourself  but  on  the  rest  of  your  companions.  It 
is  a  fatal  mistake  ever  to  offer  resistance  to  people 
who  are  stronger  than  ourselves.  The  step  can 
have  no  possible  danger  for  you  —  it  is  probably 
about  some  little  formality  that  has  been  omitted." 

1262 


BOULE     DE    SUI  F 

One  and  all  concurred  with  him,  implored  and 
urged  and  scolded,  till  they  ended  by  convincing 
her;  for  they  were  all  apprehensive  of  the  results 
of  her  obstinacy. 

"Well,  it  is  only  for  your  sakes  that  I  am  doing 
it!"  she  said  at  last.  The  Countess  pressed  her 
hand.     "And  we  are  most  grateful  to  you." 

She  left  the  room,  and  the  others  agreed  to  wait 
for  her  before  beginning  the  meal.  Each  one 
lamented  at  not  having  been  asked  for  instead  of 
this  hot-headed,  violent  young  woman,  and  mentally 
prepared  any  number  of  platitudes  for  the  event  of 
being  called  in  their  turn. 

At  the  end  of  ten  minutes  she  returned,  crimson 
with  rage,  choking,  snorting,  —  "Oh,  the  black- 
guard;   the  low  blackguard!"  she  stammered. 

They  all  crowded  round  her  to  know  what  had 
happened,  but  she  would  not  say,  and  the  Count 
becoming  insistent,  she  answered  with  much  dig- 
nity, "No,  it  does  not  concern  anybody!  I  can't 
speak  of  it." 

They  then  seated  themselves  round  a  great  soup 
tureen  from  which  steamed  a  smell  of  cabbage. 
In  spite  of  this  little  contretemps  the  supper  was  a 
gay  one.  The  cider,  of  which  the  Loiseaus  and  the 
two  nuns  partook  from  motives  of  economy,  was 
good.  The  rest  ordered  wine  and  Cornudet  called 
for  beer.  He  had  a  particular  way  of  uncorking 
the  bottle,  of  making  the  liquid  froth,  of  gazing  at 
it  while  he  tilted  the  glass,  which  he  then  held  up 
between  his  eye  and  the  light  to  enjoy  the  color; 
while  he  drank,  his  great  beard,  which  had  the  tints 
of  his  favourite  beverage,  seemed  to  quiver  fondly, 

1:273 


BOULE     DE     SU  I  F 

his  eyes  squinting  that  he  might  not  lose  sight  of 
his  tankard  for  a  moment,  and  altogether  he  had  the 
appearance  of  fulfilling  the  sole  function  for  which 
he  had  been  born.  You  would  have  said  that  he 
established  in  his  own  mind  some  connection  or 
affmity  between  the  two  great  passions  that  mo- 
nopolized his  life  —  Ale  and  Revolution  —  and  most 
assuredly  he  never  tasted  the  one  without  thinking 
of  the  other. 

Monsieur  and  Madame  Follenvie  dined  at  the 
farther  end  of  the  table.  The  husband  —  puffing 
and  blowing  like  an  exploded  locomotive  —  had  too 
much  cold  on  the  chest  to  be  able  to  speak  and  eat 
at  the  same  time, 'but  his  wife  never  ceased  talking. 
She  described  her  every  impression  at  the  arrival 
of  the  Prussians  and  all  they  did  and  all  they  said, 
execrating  them  in  the  first  place  because  they  cost 
so  much,  and  secondly  because  she  had  two  sons  in 
the  army.  She  addressed  herself  chiefly  to  the 
Countess,  as  it  flattered  her  to  be  able  to  say  she 
had  conversed  with  a  lady  of  quality. 

She  presently  lowered  her  voice  and  proceeded 
to  recount  some  rather  delicate  matters,  her  husband 
breaking  in  from  time  to  time  with  —  "You  had 
much  better  hold  your  tongue,  Madame  Follenvie," 
—  to  which  she  paid  not  the  slightest  attention, 
but  went  on. 

"Well,  madame,  as  I  was  saying  —  these  men, 
they  do  nothing  but  eat  potatoes  and  pork  and  pork 
and  potatoes  from  morning  till  night.  And  as  for 
their  habits  —  !  Saving  your  presence,  they  make 
dirt  everywhere.  And  you  should  see  them  exercis- 
ing for  hours  and  days  together  out  there  in  the 

1:283 


BOULE     DE     SUI  F 

fields  —  It's  forward  march  and  backward  march, 
and  turn  this  way  and  turn  that.  If  they  even 
worked  in  the  fields  or  mended  the  roads  in  their 
own  country!  But,  no,  madame,  these  soldiers  are 
no  good  to  anybody,  and  the  poor  people  have  to 
keep  them  and  feed  them  simply  that  they  may 
learn  how  to  murder.  I  know  I  am  only  a  poor 
ignorant  old  woman,  but  when  I  see  these  men 
wearing  themselves  out  by  tramping  up  and  down 
from  morning  till  night,  I  cannot  help  saying  to 
myself,  if  there  are  some  people  who  make  a  lot 
of  useful  discoveries,  why  should  others  give  them- 
selves so  much  trouble  to  do  harm  ?  After  all, 
isn't  it  an  abomination  to  kill  anybody,  no  matter 
whether  they  are  Prussians,  or  English,  or  Poles, 
or  French?  If  you  revenge  yourself  on  some  one 
who  has  harmed  you,  that  is  wicked,  for  you  are 
punished;  but  let  them  shoot  down  our  sons  as 
if  they  were  game,  and  it  is  all  right,  and  they  give 
medals  to  the  man  who  kills  the  most.  No,  no, 
I  say,  I  shall  never  be  able  to  see  any  rhyme  or 
reason  in  that!" 

"War  is  barbarous  if  one  attacks  an  unoffending 
neighbour  —  it  is  a  sacred  duty  if  one  defends  one's 
country,"  remarked  Cornudet  in  a  declamatory 
tone. 

The  old  woman  drooped  her  head.  "Yes  —  de- 
fending oneself,  of  course,  that  is  quite  another 
thing;  but  wouldn't  it  be  better  to  kill  all  these 
kings  who  do  this  for  their  pleasure?" 

Cornudet's  eyes  flashed.  "Bravo,  citizeness!" 
he  cried. 

Monsieur  Carre-Lamadon  was   lost  in  thought. 

1:29: 


BOULE     DE    SUIF 

Although  he  was  an  ardent  admirer  of  famous  mili- 
tary men,  the  sound  common  sense  of  this  peasant 
woman  made  him  reflect  upon  the  wealth  which 
would  necessarily  accrue  to  the  country  if  all  these 
unemployed  and  consequently  ruinous  hands  —  so 
much  unproductive  force  —  were  available  for  the 
great  industrial  works  that  would  take  centuries 
to  complete. 

Loiseau  meanwhile  had  left  his  seat  and  gone 
over  beside  the  innkeeper,  to  whom  he  began  talk- 
ing in  a  low  voice.  The  fat  man  laughed,  coughed, 
and  spat,  his  unwieldy  stomach  shaking  with 
mirth  at  his  neighbour's  jokes,  and  he  bought  six 
hogsheads  of  claret  from  him  for  the  spring  when 
the  Prussians  would  have  cleared  out. 

Supper  was  scarcely  over  when,  dropping  with 
fatigue,  everybody  went  off  to  bed. 

Loiseau,  however,  who  had  noticed  certain  things, 
let  his  wife  go  to  bed  and  proceeded  to  glue  first 
his  ear  and  then  his  eye  to  the  keyhole,  endeav- 
ouring to  penetrate  what  he  called  "the  mysteries 
of  the  corridor." 

After  about  an  hour  he  heard  a  rustling,  and 
hurrying  to  the  keyhole,  he  perceived  Boule  de 
Suif  looking  ampler  than  ever  in  a  dressing-gown 
of  blue  cashmere  trimmed  with  white  lace.  She 
had  a  candle  in  her  hand  and  was  going  towards 
the  door  at  the  end  of  the  corridor.  Then  a  door 
at  one  side  opened  cautiously,  and  when  she  re- 
turned after  a  few  minutes,  Cornudet  in  his  shirt- 
sleeves was  following  her.  They  were  talking  in  a 
low  voice  and  presently  stood  still;  Boule  de  Suif 
apparently  defending  the  entrance  of  her  room  with 


BOULE     DE     SUIF 

much  energy.  Unfortunately  Loiseau  was  unable 
to  hear  what  they  said,  but  at  last,  as  they  raised 
their  voices  somewhat,  he  caught  a  word  or  two. 
Cornudet  was  insisting  eagerly.  "Look  here,"  he 
said,  "you  are  really  very  ridiculous  —  what  dif- 
ference can  it  make  to  you?" 

And  she  with  an  offended  air  retorted,  "No!  — 
let  me  tell  you  there  are  moments  when  that  sort 
of  thing  won't  do;  and  besides  —  here  —  it  would 
be  a  crying  shame." 

He  obviously  did  not  understand.     "Why?" 

At  this  she  grew  angry.  "Why?"  and  she  raised 
her  voice  still  more,  "you  don't  see  why?  and  there 
are  Prussians  in  the  house  —  in  the  next  room  for 
all  you  know!" 

He  made  no  reply.  This  display  of  patriotic 
prudery  evidently  aroused  his  failing  dignity,  for 
with  a  brief  kiss  he  made  for  his  own  door  on 
tiptoe. 

Loiseau,  deeply  thrilled  and  amused,  executed  a 
double  shuffle  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  donned 
his  nightcap,  slipped  into  the  blankets  where  the 
bony  figure  of  his  spouse  already  reposed,  and  wak- 
ing her  with  a  kiss  he  murmured:  "Do  you  love 
me,  darling?" 

The  whole  house  sank  to  silence.  But  anon  there 
arose  from  somewhere  —  it  might  have  been  the 
cellar,  it  might  have  been  the  attics  —  impossible 
to  determine  the  direction  —  a  rumbling  —  sono- 
rous, even,  regular,  dull,  prolonged  roar  as  of  a  boiler 
under  high  steam  pressure:  Monsieur  FoIIenvie  slept. 

It  had  been  decided  that  they  should  start  at 
eight  o'clock  the  next  morning,  so  they  were  all 


BOULE     DE     SUIF 

assembled  in  the  kitchen  by  that  hour;  but  the 
dihgence,  roofed  with  snow,  stood  sohtary  in  the 
middle  of  the  courtyard  without  horses  or  driver. 
The  latter  was  sought  for  in  vain  either  in  the 
stables  or  in  the  coachhouse.  The  men  of  the  party 
then  resolved  to  beat  the  country  round  for  him, 
and  went  out  accordingly.  They  found  themselves 
in  the  public  square  with  the  church  at  one  end, 
and  low-roofed  houses  down  each  side  in  which 
they  caught  sight  of  Prussian  soldiers.  The  first 
one  they  came  upon  was  peeling  potatoes;  farther 
on  another  was  washing  out  a  barber's  shop;  while 
a  third,  bearded  to  the  eyes,  was  soothing  a  crying 
child  and  rocking  it  to  and  fro  on  his  knee  to  quiet 
it.  The  big  peasant  women  whose  men  were  all 
"with  the  army  in  the  war"  were  ordering  about 
their  docile  conquerors  and  showing  them  by  signs 
what  work  they  wanted  done  —  chopping  wood, 
grinding  coffee,  fetching  water;  one  of  them  was 
even  doing  the  washing  for  his  hostess,  a  helpless 
old  crone. 

The  Count,  much  astonished,  stopped  the  beadle, 
who  happened  to  come  out  of  the  priest's  house 
at  that  moment,  and  asked  the  meaning  of  it  all. 

"Oh,"  repHed  the  old  church  rat,  "these  are  not 
at  all  bad.  From  what  I  hear  they  are  not  Prus- 
sians, either;  they  come  from  farther  off,  but  where 
I  can't  say;  and  they  have  all  left  a  wife  and  chil- 
dren at  home.  I  am  very  sure  the  women  down 
there  are  crying  for  their  men,  too,  and  it  will  all 
make  a  nice  lot  of  misery  for  them  as  well  as  for 
us.  We  are  not  so  badly  off  here  for  the  moment, 
because  they  do  no  harm  and  are  working  just  as 

1:32: 


BOULE     DE    SU  I  F 

if  they  were  in  their  own  homes.  You  see,  Mon- 
sieur, the  poor  always  help  one  another;  it  is  the 
bigwigs  who  make  the  wars." 

Cornudet,  indignant  at  the  friendly  understanding 
established  between  the  victors  and  the  vanquished, 
retired  from  the  scene,  preferring  to  shut  himself 
up  in  the  inn.  Loiseau  of  course  must  have  his 
joke.  "They  are  re-populating,"  he  said.  Mon- 
sieur Carre-Lamadon  found  a  more  fitting  expres- 
sion.    "They  are  making  reparations." 

But  the  driver  was  nowhere  to  be  found.  At 
last  he  was  unearthed  in  the  village  cafe  hobnob- 
bing fraternally  with  the  officer's  orderly. 

"Did  you  not  have  orders  to  have  the  dihgence 
ready   by   eight   o'clock?"   the   Count   asked   him, 

"Oh,    yes,   but   I    got   another   order   later   on." 

"What?" 

"Not  to  put  the  horses  in  at  all." 

"Who  gave  you  that  order?" 

"Why,  —  the  Prussian  commandant." 

"Why?" 

"  I  don't  know  —  you  had  better  ask  him.  I  am 
told  not  to  harness  the  horses,  and  so  I  don't  har- 
ness them  —  there  you  are." 

"Did  he  tell  you  so  himself?" 

"No,  Monsieur,  the  innkeeper  brought  me  the 
message  from  him," 

"When  was  that?" 

"Last  night,  just  as  I  was  going  to  bed." 

The  three  men  returned  much  disconcerted. 
They  asked  for  Monsieur  Follenvie,  but  were  in- 
formed by  the  servant  that  on  account  of  his  asthma 
he  never  got  up  before  ten  o'clock  —  he  had  even 


BOULE     DE     SUIF 

positively  forbidden  them  to  awaken  him  before 
then  except  in  case  of  fire. 

Then  they  asked  to  see  the  officer,  but  that  was 
absolutely  impossible,  although  he  lodged  at  the 
inn. 

Monsieur  FoIIenvie  alone  was  authorized  to  ap- 
proach him  on  non-military  matters.  So  they  had 
to  wait.  The  women  returned  to  their  rooms  and 
occupied  themselves  as  best  they  could. 

Cornudet  installed  himself  in  the  high  chimney- 
corner  of  the  kitchen,  where  a  great  fire  was  burn- 
ing. He  had  one  of  the  little  coffee-room  tables 
brought  to  him  and  a  can  of  beer,  and  puffed  away 
placidly  at  his  pipe,  which  enjoyed  among  the  dem- 
ocrats almost  equal  consideration  with  himself,  as 
if  in  serving  Cornudet  it  served  the  country  also. 
The  pipe  was  a  superb  meerschaum,  admirably 
coloured,  black  as  the  teeth  of  its  owner,  but  fra- 
grant, curved,  shining  familiar  to  his  hand,  and 
the  natural  complement  to  his  physiognomy.  He 
sat  there  motionless,  his  eyes  fixed  alternately  on 
the  flame  of  the  hearth  and  the  foam  on  the  top 
of  his  tankard,  and  each  time  after  drinking  he 
passed  his  bony  fingers  with  a  self-satisfied  gesture 
through  his  long  greasy  hair,  while  he  absorbed 
the  fringe  of  froth  from  his  moustache. 

Under  the  pretext  of  stretching  his  legs,  Loiseau 
went  out  and  palmed  off  his  wines  on  the  country 
retail  dealers.  The  Count  and  the  manufacturer 
talked  politics.  They  forecast  the  future  of  France, 
the  one  putting  his  faith  in  the  Orleans,  the  other 
in  an  unknown  saviour,  a  hero  who  would  come  to 
the  fore  when  things  were  at  their  very  worst  — 

1:343 


BOULE    DE    SUI  F 

a  Du  Guesclin,  a  Joan  of  Arc  perhaps,  or  even  an- 
other Napoleon  I.  Ah,  if  only  the  Prince  Imperial 
were  not  so  young!  Cornudet  hstened  to  them 
with  the  smile  of  a  man  who  could  solve  the  rid- 
dle of  Fate  if  he  would.  His  pipe  perfumed  the 
whole  kitchen  with  its  balmy  fragrance. 

On  the  stroke  of  ten  Monsieur  FoIIenvie  made 
his  appearance.  They  instantly  attacked  him  with 
questions,  but  he  had  but  one  answer  which  he  re- 
peated two  or  three  times  without  variation.  "The 
officer  said  to  me,  '  Monsieur  FoIIenvie,  you  will  for- 
bid them  to  harness  the  horses  for  these  travel- 
lers to-morrow  morning.  They  are  not  to  leave 
till  I  give  my  permission.  You  understand? '  That 
is  all." 

They  demanded  to  see  the  officer;  the  Count 
sent  up  his  card,  on  which  Monsieur  Carre-Lama- 
don  added  his  name  and  all  his  titles.  The  Prus- 
sian sent  word  that  he  would  admit  the  two  men 
to  his  presence  after  he  had  lunched,  that  is  to 
say,  about  one  o'clock. 

The  ladies  came  down  and  they  all  managed  to 
eat  a  little  in  spite  of  their  anxiety.  Boule  de 
Suif  looked  quite  ill  and  very  much  agitated. 

They  were  just  finishing  coffee  when  the  orderly 
arrived  to  fetch  the  two  gentlemen. 

Loiseau  joined  them,  but  when  they  proposed  to 
bring  Cornudet  along  to  give  more  solemnity  to 
their  proceedings,  he  declared  haughtily  that  noth- 
ing would  induce  him  to  enter  into  any  commu- 
nication whatsoever  with  the  Germans,  and  he  re- 
turned to  his  chimney-corner  and  ordered  another 
bottle  of  beer. 

C35: 


BOULE     DE     SU  I  F 

The  three  men  went  upstairs,  and  were  shown 
Into  the  best  room  in  the  inn,  where  they  were 
received  by  the  officer  lolling  in  an  arm-chair,  his 
heels  on  the  chimney-piece,  smoking  a  long  por- 
celain pipe,  and  arrayed  in  a  flamboyant  dress- 
ing-gown, taken,  no  doubt,  from  the  abandoned 
dwelling-house  of  some  bourgeois  of  inferior  taste. 
He  did  not  rise,  he  vouchsafed  them  no  greeting 
of  any  description,  he  did  not  even  look  at  them  — 
a  brilliant  sample  of  the  victorious  military  cad. 

At  last  after  some  moments,  waiting  he  said: 
"Vat  do  you  vant?" 

The  Count  acted  as  spokesman. 

"We  w4sh  to  leave.  Monsieur." 

"No." 

"May  I  take  the  liberty  of  asking  the  reason 
for  this  refusal?" 

"Pecause  I  do  not  shoose." 

"With  all  due  respect,  Monsieur,  I  would  draw 
your  attention  to  the  fact  that  your  general  gave 
us  a  permit  for  Dieppe,  and  I  cannot  see  that  we 
have  done  anything  to  justify  your  hard  measures." 

"  I  do  not  shoose  —  dat's  all  —  you  can  co  town." 

They  all  bowed  and  withdrew. 

The  afternoon  was  miserable.  They  could  make 
nothing  of  this  caprice  of  the  German's,  and  the 
most  far-fetched  ideas  tortured  their  minds.  The 
whole  party  remained  in  the  kitchen  engaging  in 
endless  discussions,  imagining  the  most  improbable 
things.  Were  they  to  be  kept  as  hostages?  —  but 
if  so,  to  what  end?  —  or  taken  prisoners  —  or 
asked  a  large  ransom?  This  last  suggestion  threw 
them  into  a  cold  perspiration  of  fear.    The  wealthi- 

1:363 


BOULE    DE    SUIF 

est  were  seized  with  the  worst  panic  and  saw  tliem- 
selves  forced,  if  they  valued  their  hves,  to  empty 
bags  of  gold  into  the  rapacious  hands  of  this  soldier. 
They  racked  their  brains  for  plausible  Hes  to  dis- 
semble their  riches,  to  pass  themselves  off  as  poor  — 
very  poor.  Loiseau  pulled  off  his  watch-chain  and 
hid  it  in  his  pocket.  As  night  fell  their  apprehen- 
sions increased.  The  lamp  was  Hghted,  and  as  there 
were  still  two  hours  till  supper  Madame  Loiseau 
proposed  a  game  of  thirty-one.  It  would  be  some 
little  distraction,  at  any  rate.  The  plan  was  ac- 
cepted; even  Cornudet,  who  had  put  out  his  pipe 
from  motives  of  politeness,  taking  a  hand. 

The  Count  shufHed  the  cards,  dealt,  Boule  de 
Suif  had  thirty-one  at  the  first  deal ;  and  very  soon 
the  interest  in  the  game  allayed  the  fears  that  be- 
set their  minds.  Cornudet,  however,  observed  that 
the  two  Loiseaus  were  in  league  to  cheat. 

Just  as  they  were  sitting  down  to  the  evening 
meal  Monsieur  appeared  and  said  in  his  husky 
voice:  "The  Prussian  officer  wishes  to  know  if  Ma- 
demoiselle Elizabeth  Rousset  has  not  changed  her 
mind  yet?" 

Boule  de  Suif  remained  standing  and  turned  very 
pale,  then  suddenly  her  face  flamed  and  she  fell  into 
such  a  paroxysm  of  rage  that  she  could  not  speak. 
At  last  she  burst  out:  "You  can  tell  that  scoun- 
drel —  that  low  scum  of  a  Prussian  —  that  I  won't 
—  and  I  never  will  —  do  you  hear?  —  never!  never! 
never ! 

The  fat  innkeeper  retired.  They  instantly  sur- 
rounded Boule  de  Suif,  questioning,  entreating  her 
to  disclose  the  mystery  of  her  visit.     At  first  she 

1:373 


BOULE     DE     SUI  F 

refused,  but  presently  she  was  carried  away  by  her 
indignation:  "What  does  he  want?  —  what  does  he 
want?  —  he  wants  me  to  make  love  to  him!"  she 
shouted. 

The  general  indignation  was  so  violent  that  no- 
body was  shocked.  Cornudet  brought  his  beer 
glass  down  on  the  table  with  such  a  bang  that  it 
broke.  There  was  a  perfect  babel  of  invective 
against  the  drunken  lout,  a  hurricane  of  wrath, 
a  union  of  all  for  resistance,  as  if  each  had  been 
required  to  contribute  a  portion  of  the  sacrifice  de- 
manded of  her.  The  Count  protested  with  disgust 
that  these  people  behaved  really  as  if  they  were 
early  barbarians.  The  women,  in  particular,  ac- 
corded her  the  most  lively  and  affectionate  sym- 
pathy. The  nuns,  who  only  appeared  at  meals, 
dropped  their  eyes  and  said  nothing. 

The  first  fury  of  the  storm  having  abated,  they 
sat  down  to  supper,  but  there  was  little  conversa- 
tion and  a  good  deal  of  thoughtful  abstraction. 

The  ladies  retired  early;  the  men,  while  they 
smoked,  got  up  a  game  of  ecarte,  which  Monsieur 
FoIIenvie  was  invited  to  join,  as  they  intended 
pumping  him  skilfully  as  to  the  means  that  could 
be  employed  for  overcoming  the  officer's  opposi- 
tion to  their  departure.  Unfortunately,  he  would 
absorb  himself  wholly  in  his  cards,  and  neither  lis- 
tened to  what  they  said  nor  gave  any  answer  to 
their  questions,  but  repeated  incessantly,  "Play, 
gentlemen,  play!"  His  attention  was  so  deeply  en- 
gaged that  he  forgot  to  spit,  which  caused  his  chest 
to  wheeze  from  time  to  time;  his  wheezing  lungs 
running  through  the  whole  gamut  of  asthma  from 


BOULE     DE    SUIF 

notes  of  the  profoundest  bass  to  the  shrill,  hoarse 
crow  of  the  young  cock. 

He  refused  to  go  to  bed  when  his  wife,  who  was 
dropping  with  sleep,  came  to  fetch  him.  She  there- 
fore departed  alone,  for  on  her  devolved  the  "day 
duty,"  and  she  always  rose  with  the  sun,  while 
her  husband  took  the  "night  duty,"  and  was  al- 
ways ready  to  sit  up  all  night  with  friends.  He 
merely  called  out,  "  Mind  you  put  my  egg  flip  in  front 
of  the  fire!"  and  returned  to  his  cards.  When  they 
were  convinced  that  there  was  nothing  to  be  got 
out  of  him,  they  declared  that  it  was  high  time  to 
go  to  bed,  and  left  him. 

They  were  up  again  pretty  early  the  next  day, 
filled  with  an  indefinite  hope,  a  still  keener  desire 
to  be  gone,  and  a  horror  of  another  day  to  be  got 
through  in  this  horrible  little  inn. 

Alas!  the  horses  were  still  in  the  stable  and  the 
coachman  remained  invisible.  For  lack  of  some- 
thing better  to  do,  they  sadly  wandered  round  the 
diligence. 

Lunch  was  very  depressing,  and  a  certain  chilliness 
had  sprung  up  with  regard  to  Boule  de  Suif,  for  the 
night — which  brings  counsel  —  had  somewhat  modi- 
fied their  opinions.  They  were  almost  vexed  with 
the  girl  now  for  not  having  gone  to  the  Prussian 
secretly,  and  thus  prepared  a  pleasant  surprise  for 
her  companions  in  the  morning.  What  could  be 
simpler,  and,  after  all,  who  could  have  been  any 
the  wiser?  She  might  have  saved  appearances  by 
telhng  the  officer  that  she  could  not  bear  to  see  their 
distress  any  longer.  It  could  make  so  very  little 
difference  to  her  one  way  or  another! 

1:39: 


BOULE     DE     SU  I  F 

But,  as  yet,  nobody  confessed  to  these  thoughts. 

In  the  afternoon,  as  they  were  feehng  bored  to 
extinction,  the  Count  proposed  a  walk  round  the 
village.  Everybody  wrapped  up  carefully  and  the 
httle  party  started,  with  the  exception  of  Cornudet, 
who  preferred  sitting  by  the  fire,  and  the  two  Sisters, 
who  passed  their  days  in  the  church  or  with  the  cure. 

The  cold  —  grown  more  intense  each  day  — 
nipped  their  noses  and  ears  viciously,  and  the  feet 
became  so  painful  that  every  step  was  anguish; 
but  when  they  caught  sight  of  the  open  stretch  of 
country  it  appeared  to  them  so  appalhngly  lugu- 
brious under  its  ilhmitable  white  covering  that  they 
turned  back  with  one  accord,  their  hearts  con- 
stricted, their  spirits  below  zero.  The  four  ladies 
walked  in  front,  the  three  men  following  a  httle 
behind. 

Loiseau,  who  thoroughly  took  in  the  situation, 
suddenly  broke  out,  "How  long  was  this  damned 
wench  going  to  keep  them  hanging  on  in  this  hole?  " 
The  Count,  courteous  as  ever,  observed  that  one 
could  not  demand  so  painful  a  sacrifice  of  any  wo- 
man —  the  offer  must  come  from  her.  Monsieur 
Carre-Lamadon  remarked  that  if  —  as  there  was 
every  reason  to  beheve  —  the  French  made  an 
offensive  counter-march  by  way  of  Dieppe,  the 
colhsion  could  only  take  place  at  Totes.  This  re- 
flection greatly  alarmed  the  other  two.  "Why  not 
escape  on  foot?  "  suggested  Loiseau.  The  Count 
shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  How  can  you  think  of  such 
a  thing  in  this  snow  —  and  with  our  wives?  Be- 
sides which,  we  should  instantly  be  pursued,  caught 
in  ten  minutes,  and  brought  back  prisoners  at  the 

n4o3 


BOULE     DE     SU  I  F 

mercy  of  these  soldiers."  This  was  incontestable 
—  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  said. 

The  ladies  talked  dress,  but  a  certain  constraint 
seemed  to  have  risen  up  between  them. 

All  at  once,  at  the  end  of  the  street,  the  officer 
came  in  sight,  his  tall  figure,  like  a  wasp  in  uniform, 
silhouetted  against  the  dazzling  background  of 
snow,  and  walking  with  his  knees  well  apart,  with 
that  movement  peculiar  to  the  military  when  en- 
deavouring to  save  their  carefully  polished  boots 
from  the  mud. 

In  passing  the  ladies  he  bowed,  but  only  stared 
contemptuously  at  the  men,  who,  be  it  said,  had 
the  dignity  not  to  lift  their  hats,  though  Loiseau 
made  a  faint  gesture  in  that  direction. 

Boule  de  Suif  blushed  up  to  her  eyes,  and  the 
three  married  women  felt  it  a  deep  humiliation  to 
have  encountered  this  soldier  while  they  were  in 
the  company  of  the  young  woman  he  had  treated 
so  cavalierly. 

The  conversation  then  turned  upon  him,  his 
general  appearance,  his  face.  Madame  Carre- 
Lamadon,  who  had  known  a  great  many  officers  and 
was  competent  to  judge  of  them  as  a  connoisseur, 
considered  this  one  really  not  half  bad  —  she  even 
regretted  that  he  was  not  French,  he  would  have 
made  such  a  fascinating  hussar,  and  would  cer- 
tainly have  been  much  run  after. 

Once  indoors  again,  they  did  not  know  what  to 
do  with  themselves.  Sharp  words  were  exchanged 
on  the  most  insignificant  pretexts.  The  silent 
dinner  did  not  last  long,  and  they  shortly  afterwards 
went  to  bed,  hoping  to  kill  time  by  sleeping. 

L4O 


BOULE     DE     SUI  F 

They  came  down  next  morning  with  jaded  faces 
and  exasperation  in  their  hearts.  The  women 
scarcely  addressed  a  word  to  Boule  de  Suif. 

Presently  the  church  bell  began  to  ring;  it  was 
for  a  christening.  Boule  de  Suif  had  a  child  out  at 
nurse  with  some  peasants  near  Yvetot.  She  did 
not  see  it  once  in  a  year  and  never  gave  it  a  thought, 
but  the  idea  of  this  baby  which  was  going  to  be 
baptized  filled  her  heart  with  sudden  and  violent 
tenderness  for  her  own,  and  nothing  would  satisfy 
her  but  that  she  should  assist  at  the  ceremony. 

No  sooner  was  she  gone  than  they  all  looked  at 
one  another  and  proceeded  to  draw  up  their  chairs; 
for  everybody  felt  that  things  had  come  to  that  point 
that  something  must  be  decided  upon.  Loiseau 
had  an  inspiration:  that  they  should  propose  to  the 
officer  to  keep  Boule  de  Suif  and  let  the  rest  go. 

Monsieur  Follenvie  undertook  the  mission,  but 
returned  almost  immediately.  The  German,  who 
had  some  knowledge  of  human  nature,  had  sim- 
ply turned  him  out  of  the  room.  He  meant  to 
retain  the  whole  party  so  long  as  his  desire  was 
unsatisfied. 

At  this  Madame  Loiseau's  plebeian  tendencies 
got  the  better  of  her.  "  But  surely  we  are  not  going 
to  sit  down  calmly  here  and  die  of  old  age!  As 
that  is  this  harlot's  trade,  I  don't  see  that  she  has 
any  right  to  refuse  one  man  more  than  another. 
Why,  she  took  anybody  she  could  get  in  Rouen,  down 
to  the  very  cab  drivers.  Yes,  Madame,  the  coach- 
man of  the  Prefecture.  I  know  all  about  it.  He 
buys  his  wine  at  our  shop.  And  now,  when  it  lies 
with  her  to  get  us  out  of  this  scrape,  she  pretends 

I  42  2 


BOULE    DE    SUI  F 

to  be  particular  —  the  brazen  hussy!  For  my  part, 
I  consider  the  officer  has  behaved  very  well!  He 
has  probably  not  had  a  chance  for  some  time,  and 
there  were  three  here  whom,  no  doubt,  he  would 
have  preferred;  but  no  —  he  is  content  to  take  the 
one  who  is  pubhc  property.  He  respects  married 
women.  Remember,  he  is  master  here.  He  had 
only  to  say  'I  will,'  and  he  could  have  taken  us  by 
force  with  his  soldiers!" 

A  httle  shudder  ran  through  the  other  two  women. 
Pretty  httle  Madame  Carre-Lamadon's  eyes  shone 
and  she  turned  rather  pale  as  though  she  already 
felt  herself  forcibly  seized  by  the  officer. 

The  men,  who  had  been  arguing  the  matter  in  a 
corner,  now  joined  them.  Loiseau,  foaming  with 
rage,  was  for  delivering  up  "the  hussy"  bound 
hand  and  foot  to  the  enemy.  But  the  Count,  com- 
ing of  three  generations  of  ambassadors,  and  gifted 
with  the  physique  of  the  diplomatist,  was  on  the 
side  of  skill  as  opposed  to  brute  force. 

"She  must  be  persuaded,"  he  said.  Whereupon 
they  conspired. 

The  women  drew  up  closer  together,  voices  were 
lowered,  and  the  discussion  became  general,  each  one 
offering  his  or  her  advice.  Nothing  was  said  to  shock 
the  proprieties.  The  ladies,  in  particular,  were 
most  expert  in  felicitous  turns  of  phrase,  charming 
subtleties  of  speech  for  expressing  the  most  ticklish 
things.  A  foreigner  would  have  understood  nothing, 
the  language  was  so  carefully  veiled.  But  as  the 
slight  coating  of  modesty  with  which  every  woman 
of  the  world  is  enveloped  is  hardly  more  than  skin 
deep,   they   expanded   under  the   influence  of  this 

[143  3 


BOU  LE     D£    SU  I  F 

equivocal  adventure,  enjoying  themselves  tremen- 
dously at  bottom,  thoroughly  in  their  element,  dab- 
bling in  sensuahty  with  the  gusto  of  an  epicurean  cook 
preparing  a  toothsome  delicacy  for  somebody  else. 

The  story  finally  appeared  to  them  so  funny  that 
they  quite  recovered  their  spirits.  The  Count  in- 
dulged in  some  rather  risky  pleasantries,  but  so 
well  put  that  they  raised  a  responsive  smile;  Loiseau, 
in  his  turn,  rapped  out  some  decidedly  strong  jokes 
which  nobody  took  in  bad  part,  and  the  brutal 
proposition  expressed  by  his  wife  swayed  all  their 
minds:  "As  that  is  her  trade,  why  refuse  one  man 
more  than  another?"  Little  Madame  Carre-Lama- 
don  seemed  even  to  think  that  in  her  place  she  would 
refuse  this  one  less  readily  than  another. 

They  were  long  in  preparing  the  blockade,  as  if 
against  an  invested  fortress.  Each  one  agreed  upon 
the  part  they  would  play,  the  arguments  they  would 
bring  forward,  the  manoeuvres  they  would  execute. 
They  arranged  the  plan  of  attack,  the  stratagems 
to  be  employed,  and  the  surprises  of  the  assault  for 
forcing  this  living  citadel  to  receive  the  enemy 
within  its  gates.  Cornudet  alone  held  aloof,  com- 
pletely outside  the  affair. 

They  were  so  profoundly  occupied  with  the  matter 
in  hand  that  they  never  heard  Boule  de  Suif  enter 
the  room.  But  the  Count  breathed  a  low  warning 
"  Hush !  "  and  they  lifted  their  heads.  She  was  there. 
The  talking  ceased  abruptly,  and  a  certain  feeling  of 
embarrassment  prevented  them  from  addressing  her 
at  first,  till  the  Countess,  more  versed  than  the  others 
in  the  duplicities  of  the  drawing-room,  asked  how 
she  had  enjoyed  the  christening. 

C  44  3 


BOULE     DE     SUI  F 

Still  full  of  emotion  at  what  she  had  witnessed, 
Boule  de  Suif  described  every  detail  —  the  peoples' 
faces,  their  attitudes,  even  the  appearance  of  the 
church.  It  was  so  nice  to  pray  now  and  then,  she 
added. 

Till  luncheon,  however,  the  ladies  confined  them- 
selves merely  to  being  agreeable  to  her  in  order  to 
increase  her  confidence  in  them  and  her  docihty  to 
their  counsels.  But  once  seated  at  the  table,  the 
attack  began.  It  first  took  the  form  of  a  desultory 
conversation  on  devotion  to  a  cause.  Examples 
from  ancient  history  were  cited:  Judith  and  Holo- 
fernes,  and  then,  without  any  apparent  connection, 
Lucretia  and  Sextus,  Cleopatra  admitting  to  her 
couch  all  the  hostile  generals,  and  reducing  them  to 
the  servility  of  slaves.  Then  began  a  fantastic 
history,  which  had  sprung  up  in  the  minds  of  the 
ignorant  millionaires,  in  which  the  women  of  Rome 
were  seen  on  their  way  to  Capua,  to  rock  Hanni- 
bal to  sleep  in  their  arms,  and  his  officers  along  with 
him,  and  the  phalanxes  of  the  mercenaries.  The 
women  were  mentioned  who  had  arrested  the  course 
of  conquerors,  made  of  their  bodies  a  rampart,  a 
means  of  dominating,  a  weapon;  who  had  van- 
quished by  their  heroic  embraces  beings  hideous 
or  repulsive,  and  sacrificed  their  chastity  to  venge- 
ance or  patriotism.  They  even  talked  in  veiled 
terms  of  an  Englishwoman  of  good  family  who  had 
herself  inoculated  with  a  horrible  contagious  disease, 
in  order  to  give  it  to  Napoleon,  who  was  saved 
miraculously  by  a  sudden  indisposition  at  the  hour 
of  the  fatal  meeting. 

And  all  this  in  so  discreet  and  moderate  a  manner, 

l45l 


BOULE     DE     SU  I  F 

with  now  and  then  a  httle  burst  of  warm  enthusiasm, 
admirably  calculated  to  excite  emulation.  To  hear 
them  you  would  have  finally  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  woman's  sole  mission  here  below  was  to  per- 
petually sacrifice  her  person,  to  abandon  herself 
continually  to  the  caprices  of  the  warrior. 

The  two  Sisters  appeared  to  be  deaf  to  it  all, 
sunk  in  profound  thought.  Boule  de  Suif  said 
nothing. 

They  allowed  her  all  the  afternoon  for  reflection, 
but  instead  of  calling  her  "Madame,"  as  they  had 
done  up  till  now,  they  addressed  her  simply  as 
"Mademoiselle"  —  nobody  could  have  said  exactly 
why  —  as  if  to  send  her  down  a  step  in  the  esteem 
she  had  gained,  and  force  her  to  feel  the  shame  of 
her  position. 

In  the  evening  just  as  the  soup  was  being  brought 
to  the  table  Monsieur  Follenvie  made  his  appearance 
again  with  the  same  message  as  before:  "The 
Prussian  officer  sends  to  ask  Mademoiselle  Eliza- 
beth Rousset  if  she  had  not  changed  her  mind." 

"No,   Monsieur,"   Boule   de   Suif  replied  curtly. 

At  supper  the  coalition  weakened.  Loiseau  put 
his  foot  in  it  three  times.  They  all  racked  their 
brains  for  fresh  instances  to  the  point,  and  found 
none,  when  the  Countess,  possibly  without  pre- 
meditation and  only  from  a  vague  desire  to  render 
homage  to  religion,  interrogated  the  older  of  the 
two  Sisters  on  the  main  incidents  in  the  lives  of 
the  saints.  Now,  several  of  them  had  committed 
acts  which  would  be  counted  crimes  in  our  eyes,  but 
the  Church  readily  pardons  such  misdeeds  when 
they  are  accomplished  for  the  glory  of  God  or  the 

n463 


BOULE     DE     SUI  F 

benefit  of  our  neighbours.  It  was  a  powerful  argu- 
ment, and  the  Countess  took  advantage  of  it.  Then 
by  one  of  those  tacit  agreements,  those  veiled  com- 
plaisances in  which  every  one  who  wears  ecclesias- 
tical habit  excels,  or  perhaps  simply  from  a  happy 
want  of  inteIHgence,  a  helpful  stupidity,  the  old 
nun  brought  formidable  support  to  the  conspiracy. 
They  had  imagined  her  timid;  she  proved  herself 
bold,  verbose,  violent.  She  was  not  troubled  by 
any  of  the  shilly-shallyings  of  casuistry,  her  doctrine 
was  like  a  bar  of  iron,  her  faith  never  wavered,  her 
conscience  knew  no  scruples.  She  considered 
Abraham's  sacrifice  a  very  simple  affair,  for  she  her- 
self would  have  instantly  killed  father  or  mother  at 
an  order  from  above,  and  nothing,  she  averred, 
could  displease  the  Lord  if  the  intention  were  com- 
mendable. The  Countess,  taking  advantage  of  the 
sacred  authority  of  her  unexpected  ally,  drew  her 
on  to  make  an  edifying  paraphrase,  as  it  were,  on 
the  well-known  moral  maxim:  "The  end  justifies 
the  means." 

"Then,  Sister,"  she  inquired,  "you  think  God 
approves  of  every  pathway  that  leads  to  Him,  and 
pardons  the  deed  if  the  motive  be  a  pure  one?" 

"Who  can  doubt  it,  Madame?  An  action 
blamable  in  itself  is  often  rendered  meritorious  by 
the  impulse  which  inspires  it." 

And  she  continued  in  the  same  strain,  unravelling 
the  intricacies  of  the  will  of  the  Almighty,  predicting 
His  decisions,  making  Him  interest  Himself  in 
matters  which,  of  a  truth,  did  not  concern  Him  at 
all. 

All  this  was  skillfully  and  discreetly  wrapped  up, 

1:47: 


BOULE     DE     SU  I  F 

but  each  word  of  the  pious  woman  in  the  big  white 
cap  made  a  breach  in  the  indignant  resistance  of 
the  courtesan.  The  conversation  then  glancing  off 
shghtly,  the  woman  of  the  pendent  rosaries  went 
on  to  speak  of  the  rehgious  houses  of  her  Order, 
of  her  superior,  of  herself  and  her  fragile  httle  com- 
panion, her  dear  httle  Sister  St.  Nicephora.  They 
had  been  summoned  to  Havre  to  nurse  the  hundreds 
of  soldiers  there  dow^n  with  smallpox.  She  de- 
scribed the  condition  of  these  poor  wretches,  gave 
details  of  their  disease;  and  while  they  were  thus 
stopped  upon  the  road  by  the  whim  of  this  Prussian, 
many  French  soldiers  might  die  whom  perhaps  they 
could  have  saved.  That  was  her  specialty  —  nurs- 
ing soldiers.  She  had  been  in  the  Crimea,  in  Italy, 
in  Austria;  and  relating  her  campaigns,  she  sud- 
denly revealed  herself  as  one  of  those  Sisters  of  the 
fife  and  drum  who  seem  made  for  following  the  camp, 
picking  up  the  wounded  in  the  thick  of  battle,  and 
better  than  any  officer  for  quelling  with  a  word  the 
great  hulking  undisciplined  louts  —  a  regular  Sister 
Rataplan,  her  ravaged  face  all  pitted  with  innumer- 
able holes,  calling  up  an  image  of  the  devastations 
of  war. 

No  one  spoke  after  her  for  fear  of  spoiling  the 
excellent  effect. 

Immediately  after  dinner  they  hurried  to  their 
rooms,  not  to  reappear  till  pretty  late  the  next 
morning. 

Luncheon  passed  off  quietly.  They  allowed  the 
seed  sown  yesterday  time  to  grow  and  bear  fruit. 

In  the  afternoon  the  Countess  proposed  a  walk, 
whereupon  the  Count,  following  the  preconcerted 

[1483 


BOULE     DE     SU  I  F 

arrangement,  took  Boule  de  Suif's  arm  and  fell 
behind  with  her  a  little.  He  adopted  that  famihar, 
paternal,  somewhat  contemptuous  tone  which  elderly 
men  affect  towards  such  girls,  calHng  her  "my  dear 
child,"  treating  her  from  the  height  of  his  social 
position  and  indisputable  respectabihty. 

He  came  to  the  point  without  further  preamble. 
"So  you  prefer  to  keep  us  here  exposed  like  yourself 
to  all  the  violence  which  must  inevitably  follow  a 
check  to  the  Prussian  arms,  rather  than  consent  to 
accord  one  of  those  favours  you  have  so  often  dis- 
pensed in  your  time?" 

Boule  de  Suif  did  not  reply. 

He  then  appealed  to  her  kindness  of  heart,  her 
reason,  her  sentiment.  He  knew  how  to  remain 
"Monsieur  le  Comte,"  yet  showing  himself  at  the 
same  time  chivalrous,  flattering  —  in  a  word,  al- 
together amiable.  He  exalted  the  sacrifice  she 
would  be  making  for  them,  touched  upon  their 
gratitude,  and  with  a  final  flash  of  roguishness, 
"Besides,  my  dear,  he  may  think  himself  lucky  — 
he  will  not  find  many  such  pretty  girls  as  you  in 
his  own  country!" 

Boule  de  Suif  said  nothing  and  rejoined  the  rest 
of  the  party. 

When  they  returned,  she  went  straight  to  her 
room  and  did  not  come  down  again.  The  anxiety 
was  terrible.  What  was  she  going  to  do?  How 
unspeakably  mortifying  if  she  still  persisted  in  her 
refusal! 

The  dinner-hour  arrived,  they  waited  for  her  in 
vain.  Monsieur  Follenvie,  entering  presently,  an- 
nounced that  Mademoiselle  Rousset  was  indisposed, 

1149  3 


BOULE     DE     SUIF 

and  that  there  was  consequently  no  need  to  delay 
supper  any  longer.  They  all  pricked  up  their  ears. 
The  Count  approached  the  innkeeper  with  a  whis- 
pered "All  right?" 

"Yes." 

For  propriety's  sake  he  said  nothing  to  his  com- 
panions, but  he  made  them  a  slight  sign  of  the  head. 
A  great  sigh  of  relief  went  up  from  every  heart, 
every  face  lit  up  with  joy. 

" Saperlipopette!''  cried  Loiseau,  "I  will  stand 
champagne  if  there  is  such  a  thing  in  this  estab- 
lishment!" 

Madame  Loiseau  suffered  a  pang  of  anguish  when 
the  innkeeper  returned  with  four  bottles  in  his  hands. 
Everybody  suddenly  turned  communicative  and 
cheerful,  and  their  hearts  overflowed  with  prurient 
delight.  The  Count  seemed  all  at  once  to  become 
aware  that  Madame  Carre-Lamadon  was  charming; 
the  manufacturer  paid  compliments  to  the  Countess. 
Conversation  became  lively,  sprightly,  and  full  of 
sparkle. 

Suddenly  Loiseau,  with  an  anxious  expression, 
raised  his  arms  and  shouted:  "Silence!"  They  all 
stopped  talking,  surprised  and  already  terrified. 
Then  he  listened  intently,  motioning  to  them  to 
be  silent  with  his  two  hands,  and  raising  his  eyes 
to  the  ceiling.  He  listened  again,  and  resumed  in 
his  natural  voice:    "It  is  all  right.     Don't  worry." 

They  did  not  understand  at  first,  but  soon  a  smile 
spread  over  their  faces. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  he  began  the  same 
comedy,  and  repeated  it  frequently  during  the 
evening.     He  pretended  to  be  questioning  some  one 


BOULE     DE    SUIF 

on  the  floor  above,  giving  advice  in  double-meaning 
phrases  which  he  drew  from  his  repertory  as  a  com- 
mercial traveller.  At  times  he  would  assume  an 
air  of  sadness,  and  sigh:  "Poor  girl;"  or  he  would 
mutter  between  his  teeth  with  a  furious  air:  "You 
swine  of  a  Prussian!"  —  Sometimes,  when  least 
expected,  he  would  shout  in  resonant  tones: 
"Enough!  Enough!"  adding,  as  though  speaking 
to  himself,  "if  only  we  see  her  again;  if  the  scoundrel 
does  not  kill  her!" 

Although  these  jokes  were  in  deplorable  taste, 
they  amused  everyone  and  hurt  nobody,  for,  hke 
everything  else,  indignation  is  qualified  by  circum- 
stances, and  the  atmosphere  about  them  had  grad- 
ually become  charged  with  obscene  thoughts. 

By  the  time  they  reached  dessert  the  women 
themselves  were  indulging  in  decidedly  risky  witti- 
cisms. Eyes  grew  bright,  tongues  were  loosened, 
a  good  deal  of  wine  had  been  consumed.  The  Count, 
who,  even  in  his  cups,  retained  his  characteristic  air 
of  diplomatic  gravity,  made  some  highly  spiced  com- 
parisons on  the  subject  of  the  end  of  the  winter 
season  at  the  Pole  and  the  joy  of  ice-bound  mariners 
at  sight  of  an  opening  to  the  south. 

Loiseau,  now  in  full  swing,  rose,  and  lifting  high 
his  glass  of  champagne,  "To  our  deliverance!" 
he  cried.  Everybody  started  to  their  feet  with 
acclamation.  Even  the  two  Sisters  of  Mercy, 
yielding  to  the  solicitations  of  the  ladies,  consented 
to  take  a  sip  of  the  effervescing  wine  which  they  had 
never  tasted  before.  They  pronounced  it  to  be 
very   like   lemonade,   though    the    taste  was    finer. 

"What  a  pity  there  is  no  piano,"  said  Loi'seau 

15^1 


BOULE     DE     SU  I  F 

as  a  crowning  point  to  the  situation,  "we  might 
have   finished   up   with   a   quadrille." 

Cornudet  had  not  uttered  a  word,  nor  made  a 
sign  of  joining  in  the  general  hilarity;  he  was 
apparently  plunged  in  the  gravest  abstractions,  only 
pulhng  viciously  at  his  great  beard  from  time  to 
time  as  if  to  draw  it  out  longer  than  before.  At 
last,  about  midnight,  when  the  company  was  pre- 
paring to  separate,  Loiseau  came  stumbhng  over 
to  him,  and  digging  him  in  the  ribs:  "You  seem 
rather  down  in  the  mouth  this  evening,  citizen  — 
haven't  said  a  word." 

Cornudet  threw  up  his  head  angrily,  and  sweep- 
ing the  company  with  a  flashing  and  terrible  look: 
"I  tell  you  all  that  what  you  have  done  to-day  is 
infamous!" 

He  rose,  made  his  way  to  the  door,  exclaimed  once 
again,  "Infamous!"  and  vanished. 

This  somewhat  dashed  their  spirits  for  the  mo- 
ment. Loiseau,  nonplussed  at  first,  soon  regained  his 
aplomb  and  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter.  "Sour 
grapes,  old  man  —  sour  grapes!" 

The  others  not  understanding  the  allusion,  he 
proceeded  to  relate  the  "mysteries  of  the  corridor." 
This  was  followed  by  an  uproarious  revival  of 
gaiety.  The  ladies  were  in  a  frenzy  of  delight,  the 
Count  and  Monsieur  Carre-Lamadon  laughed  till 
they  cried.     They  could  not  believe  it. 

"Do  you   mean  to  say  he  wanted — " 

"  I  tell  you  I  saw  it  with  my  own  eyes." 

"And  she  refused?" 

"Because  the  Prussian  was  in  the  next  room." 

"It  is  incredible." 


BOULE     DE    SU  IF 

"As  true  as  I  stand  here!" 

The  Count  nearly  choked;  the  manufacturer 
held  both  his  sides. 

"And  you  can  understand  that  he  does  not  quite 
see  the  joke  of  the  thing  this  evening  —  oh,  no  — 
not  at  all!" 

And  they  all  three  went  off  again,  breathless, 
choking,  sick  with  laughter. 

After  that  they  parted  for  the  night.  But  Madame 
Loiseau  remarked  to  her  husband  when  they  were 
alone  that  that  httle  cat  of  a  Carre-Lamadon  had 
laughed  on  the  wrong  side  of  her  mouth  all  the 
evening.  "You  know  how  it  is  with  these  women 
—  they  dote  upon  a  uniform,  and  whether  it  is 
French  or  Prussian  matters  precious  httle  to  them. 
But,  Lord  —  it  seems  to  me  a  poor  way  of  looking 
at  things." 

All  night  the  darkness  of  the  corridor  seemed 
full  of  thrills,  of  slight  noises,  scarcely  audible,  the 
pattering  of  bare  feet,  and  creaking  that  was  almost 
imperceptible.  Certainly  nobody  got  to  sleep 
until  very  late,  for  it  was  long  before  the  lights 
ceased  to  shine  under  the  doors.  Champagne,  they 
say,  often  has  that  disturbing  effect;  it  makes  one 
restless  and  wakeful. 

Next  morning  a  brilliant  winter  sun  shone  on  the 
dazzling  snow.  The  diligence  was  by  this  time 
ready  and  waiting  before  the  door,  while  a  flock  of 
white  pigeons,  muffled  in  their  thick  plumage, 
strutted  solemnly  in  and  out  among  the  feet  of  the 
six  horses,  seeking  what  they  might  devour. 

The  driver,  enveloped  in  his  sheepskin,  sat  on  the 
box   smoking   his  pipe,  and  the   radiant   travellers 


BOULE     DE     SUIF 

were  busily  laying  in  provisions  for  the  rest  of  the 
journey. 

They  were  only  waiting  now  for  Boule  de  Suif. 
She  appeared. 

She  looked  agitated  and  downcast  as  she  advanced 
timidly  towards  her  fellow  travellers,  who  all,  with 
one  movement,  turned  away  their  heads  as  if  they 
had  not  seen  her.  The  Count,  with  a  dignified 
movement,  took  his  wife  by  the  arm  and  drew  her 
away  from  this  contaminating  contact. 

The  poor  thing  stopped  short,  bewildered;  then 
gathering  up  her  courage  she  accosted  the  wife  of 
the  manufacturer  with  a  humble  "Good  morning, 
Madame."  The  other  merely  rephed  with  an  im- 
pertinent httle  nod,  accompanied  by  a  stare  of  out- 
raged virtue.  Everybody  seemed  suddenly  extremely 
busy,  and  they  avoided  her  as  if  she  had  brought 
the  plague  in  her  skirts.  They  then  precipitated 
themselves  into  the  vehicle,  where  she  arrived 
the  last  and  by  herself,  and  resumed  in  silence  the 
seat  she  had  occupied  during  the  first  part  of  the 
journey. 

They  affected  not  to  see  her,  not  to  recognize 
her;  only  Madame  Loiseau,  glancing  round  at  her 
with  scorn  and  indignation,  said  half  audibly  to 
her  husband,  "It's  a  good  thing  that  I  am  not 
sitting  beside  her!" 

The  heavy  conveyance  jolted  off,  and  the  journey 
recommenced. 

No  one  spoke  for  the  first  httle  while.  Boule  de 
Suif  did  not  venture  to  raise  her  eyes.  She  felt 
incensed  at  her  companions,  and  at  the  same  time 
deeply  humihated  at  having  yielded  to  their  persua- 

1541 


BOULE     DE    SU  I  F 

sions,  and  let  herself  be  sullied  by  the  kisses  of  thi? 
Prussian  into  whose  arms  they  had  hypocritically 
thrust  her. 

The  Countess  was  the  first  to  break  the  uncom- 
fortable silence.  Turning  to  Madame  Carre-Lama- 
don,  she  said,  "You  know  Madame  d'Etrelles,  I 
think?" 

"Oh,  yes;    she  is  a  great  friend  of  mine." 

"What  a  charming  woman!" 

"Fascinating!  So  truly  refined;  very  cultivated, 
too,  and  an  artist  to  the  tips  of  her  fingers  —  she 
sings  delightfully,  and  draws  to  perfection." 

The  manufacturer  was  talking  to  the  Count,  and 
through  the  rattle  of  the  crazy  window-panes  one 
caught  a  word  here  and  there;  shares  —  dividends 
—  premium  —  settling  day  —  and  the  like.  Loi- 
seau,  who  had  appropriated  an  old  pack  of  cards 
from  the  inn,  thick  with  the  grease  of  the  five  years' 
rubbing  on  dirty  tables,  started  a  game  of  bezique 
with  his  wife.  The  two  Sisters  pulled  up  the  long 
rosaries  hanging  at  their  waists,  made  the  sign  of 
the  cross,  and  suddenly  began  moving  their  lips 
rapidly,  faster  and  faster,  hurrying  their  vague 
babble  as  if  for  a  wager;  kissing  a  medal  from  time 
to  time,  crossing  themselves  again,  and  then  re- 
suming their  rapid  and  monotonous  murmur. 

Cornudet  sat  motionless  —  thinking. 

At  the  end  of  the  three  hours'  steady  travelling 
Loiseau  gathered  up  his  cards  and  remarked  face- 
tiously,  "It's  turning  hungry." 

His  wife  then  produced  a  parcel,  which  she  untied, 
and  brought  out  a  piece  of  cold  veal.  This  she  cut 
up  into  thin,  firm  slices,  and  both  began  to  eat. 

155  1 


BOULE     DE     SUI  F 

"Supposing  we  do  the  same?"  said  the  Countess, 
and  proceeded  to  unpack  the  provisions  prepared 
for  both  couples.  In  one  of  those  oblong  dishes 
with  a  china  hare  upon  the  cover  to  indicate  that 
a  roast  hare  Hes  beneath,  was  a  succulent  selection 
of  cold  viands  —  brown  slices  of  juicy  venison 
mingled  with  other  meats.  A  delicious  square  of 
Gruyere  cheese  wrapped  in  newspaper  still  bore 
imprinted  on  its  dewy  surface  the  words  "General 
News." 

The  two  Sisters  brought  out  a  sausage  smelling 
of  garlic,  and  Cornudet,  plunging  his  hands  into  the 
vast  pockets  of  his  loose  greatcoat,  drew  up  four 
hard-boiled  eggs  from  one  and  a  big  crust  of  bread 
from  the  other.  He  peeled  off  the  shells  and  threw 
them  into  the  straw  under  his  feet,  and  proceeded 
to  bite  into  the  egg,  dropping  pieces  of  the  yolk  into 
his  long  beard,  from  whence  they  shone  out  like 
stars. 

In  the  hurry  and  confusion  of  the  morning  Boule 
de  Suif  had  omitted  to  take  thought  for  the  future, 
and  she  looked  on,  furious,  choking  with  mortifica- 
tion, at  these  people  all  munching  away  so  placidly. 
A  storm  of  rage  convulsed  her,  and  she  opened  her 
mouth  to  hurl  at  them  the  torrent  of  abuse  that  rose 
to  her  lips,  but  she  could  not  speak,  suffocated  by 
her  indignation. 

Nobody  looked  at  her,  nobody  thought  of  her. 
She  felt  herself  drowning  in  the  flood  of  contempt 
shown  towards  her  by  these  honest  scoundrels  who 
had  first  sacrificed  her  and  then  cast  her  off  like 
some  useless  and  unclean  thing.  Then  her  thoughts 
reverted   to   her   great   basket   full   of  good  things 

1:563 


BOULE     DE     SU  I  F 

which  they  had  so  greedily  devoured  —  the  two 
fowls  in  their  glittering  coat  of  jelly,  her  patties, 
her  pears,  her  four  bottles  of  claret;  and  her  fury 
suddenly  subsided  like  the  breaking  of  an  over- 
strung chord  and  she  felt  that  she  was  on  the  verge 
of  tears.  She  made  the  most  strenuous  efforts  to 
overcome  it  —  straightened  herself  up  and  choked 
back  her  sobs  as  children  do,  but  the  tears  would  rise. 
They  glittered  for  a  moment  on  her  lashes,  and 
presently  two  big  drops  rolled  slowly  over  her  cheeks. 
Others  gathered  in  quick  succession  like  water  drip- 
ping from  a  rock  and  splashed  on  to  the  ample  curve 
of  her  bosom.  She  sat  up  very  straight,  her  eyes 
fixed,  her  face  pale  and  rigid,  hoping  that  nobody 
would  notice. 

But  the  Countess  saw  her  and  nudged  her  hus- 
band. He  shrugged  his  shoulders  as  much  as  to  say, 
"What  can  you  expect?  It  is  not  my  fault."  Ma- 
dame Loiseau  gave  a  silent  chuckle  of  triumph  and 
murmured,  "She  is  crying  over  her  shame."  The 
two  Sisters  had  resumed  their  devotions  after  care- 
fully wrapping  up  the  remnants  of  their  sausages. 

Then  Cornudet,  while  digesting  his  eggs,  stretched 
his  long  legs  under  the  opposite  seat,  leaned  back, 
smiled  like  a  man  who  has  just  thought  of  a  capital 
joke,  and  began  to  softly  whistle  the  Marseillaise. 

The  faces  clouded;  the  popular  air  seemed  un- 
pleasing  to  his  neighbors;  they  became  nervous  — 
irritable  —  looking  as  if  they  were  ready  to  throw 
back  their  heads  and  howl  like  dogs  at  the  sound  of 
a  barrel  organ.  He  was  perfectly  aware  of  this,  but 
did  not  stop.  From  time  to  time  he  hummed  a  few 
of  the  words: 


BOULE     DE     SUIF 

Amour  sacre  de  la  patrie, 
Conduis,  soutiens  nos  bras  vengeurs. 
Liberie,  liberie  cherie, 
Combals  avec  tes  dejenseurs  ! 

They  drove  at  a  much  quicker  pace  to-day,  the 
snow  being  harder;  and  all  the  way  to  Dieppe,  dur- 
ing the  long,  dull  hours  of  the  journey,  through  all 
the  jolting  and  ratthng  of  the  conveyance,  in  the 
falHng  shades  of  evening  and  later  in  the  profound 
darkness  of  the  carriage  he  continued  with  unabated 
persistency  his  vengeful  and  monotonous  whisthng; 
forcing  his  wearied  and  exasperated  fellow  travellers 
to  follow  the  song  from  end  to  end  and  to  remember 
every  word  that  corresponded  to  each  note. 

And  Boule  de  Suif  wept  on,  and  at  times  a  sob 
which  she  could  not  repress  broke  out  between  two 
couplets  in  the  darkness. 


n58: 


MADAME    TELLIER'S 
ESTABLISHMENT 

THEY  used  to  go  there  every  evening  at  about 
eleven  o'clock,  just  as  they  went  to  the  cafe. 
Six  or  eight  of  them  used  to  meet  there;  they 
were  always  the  same  set,  not  fast  men,  but  respect- 
able citizens,  and  young  men  of  the  town,  and 
they  used  to  drink  their  Chartreuse,  and  tease  the 
girls,  or  else  they  would  talk  seriously  with  Madame, 
whom  everybody  respected,  and  then  they  used  to 
go  home  before  twelve  o'clock.  The  younger  men 
would  sometimes  stay  the  night. 

It  was  a  small,  homely  kind  of  house,  painted 
yellow,  at  the  corner  of  a  street  behind  Saint 
Etienne's  church,  and  from  the  windows  one  could 
see  the  docks,  full  of  ships  which  were  being  un- 
loaded, the  great  salt  marsh,  called  "La  Retenue," 
and  behind,  the  old,  gray  chapel,  dedicated  to  the 
Virgin,  on  the  hill. 

Madame,  who  came  of  a  respectable  family  of 
peasant  proprietors  in  the  department  of  the  Eure, 
had  taken  up  that  profession,  just  as  she  would 
have  become  a  milliner  or  dressmaker.  The  pre- 
judice against  prostitution,  which  is  so  violent  and 
deeply  rooted  in  large  towns,  does  not  exist  in  the 
country  places  in  Normandy.     The  peasant  says: 

"It  is  a  paying  business,"  and  he  sends  his  daugh- 

1:593 


MADAME     TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

ter  to  keep  a  harem  of  fast  girls,  just  as  he  would 
send  her  to  keep  a  girls'  school. 

She  had  inherited  the  house  from  an  old  uncle,  to 
whom  it  had  belonged.  Monsieur  and  Madame, 
who  had  formerly  been  innkeepers  near  Yvetot, 
had  immediately  sold  their  house,  as  they  thought 
that  the  business  at  Fecamp  was  more  profitable, 
and  they  arrived  one  fine  morning  to  assume  the 
direction  of  the  enterprise,  which  was  declining  on 
account  of  the  absence  of  the  owners.  They  were 
good  people  enough  in  their  way,  and  soon  made 
themselves  liked  by  their  staff  and  their  neighbours. 

Monsieur  died  of  apoplexy  two  years  later,  for  as 
his  new  profession  kept  him  in  idleness  and  without 
any  exercise,  he  had  grown  excessively  stout,  and  his 
health  had  suffered.  Since  she  had  been  a  widow, 
all  the  frequenters  of  the  establishment  had  wanted 
her;  but  people  said  that  personally  she  was  quite 
virtuous,  and  even  the  girls  in  the  house  could  not 
discover  anything  against  her.  She  was  tall,  stout 
and  affable,  and  her  complexion,  which  had  become 
pale  in  the  dimness  of  her  house,  the  shutters  of 
which  were  scarcely  ever  opened,  shone  as  if  it  had 
been  varnished.  She  had  a  fringe  of  curly,  false  hair, 
which  gave  her  a  juvenile  look,  that  contrasted 
strongly  with  the  ripeness  of  her  figure.  She  was 
always  smiling  and  cheerful,  and  was  fond  of  a  joke, 
but  there  was  a  shade  of  reserve  about  her,  which 
her  new  occupation  had  not  quite  made  her  lose. 
Coarse  words  always  shocked  her,  and  when  any 
young  fellow  who  had  been  badly  brought  up  called 
her  establishment  by  its  right  name,  she  was  angry 
and  disgusted. 

1:603 


MADAME    TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

In  a  word,  she  had  a  refined  mind,  and  although 
she  treated  her  women  as  friends,  yet  she  very  fre- 
quently used  to  say  that  "she  and  they  were  not 
made  of  the  same  stuff." 

Sometimes  during  the  week,  she  would  hire  a 
carriage  and  take  some  of  her  girls  into  the  country, 
where  they  used  to  enjoy  themselves  on  the  grass 
by  the  side  of  the  httle  river.  They  were  hke  a  lot 
of  girls  let  out  from  a  school,  and  used  to  run  races, 
and  play  childish  games.  They  had  a  cold  dinner 
on  the  grass,  and  drank  cider,  and  went  home  at 
night  with  a  dehcious  feehng  of  fatigue,  and  in  the 
carriage  they  kissed  Madame  as  their  kind  mother, 
who  was  full  of  goodness  and   complaisance. 

The  house  had  two  entrances.  At  the  corner  there 
was  a  sort  of  low  cafe,  which  sailors  and  the  lower 
orders  frequented  at  night,  and  she  had  two  girls 
whose  special  duty  it  was  to  attend  to  that  part  of 
the  business.  With  the  assistance  of  the  waiter, 
whose  name  was  Frederic,  and  who  was  a  short, 
light-haired,  beardless  fellow,  as  strong  as  a  horse, 
they  set  the  half  bottles  of  wine  and  the  jugs  of  beer 
on  the  shaky  marble  tables,  and  then,  sitting  astride 
on  the  customers'  knees,  they  urged  them  to  drink. 

The  three  other  girls  (there  were  only  five  of  them) 
formed  a  kind  of  aristocracy,  and  were  reserved  for 
the  company  on  the  first  floor,  unless  they  were 
wanted  downstairs,  and  there  was  nobody  on  the 
first  floor.  The  Jupiter  room,  where  the  better 
classes  used  to  meet,  was  papered  in  blue,  and  em- 
bellished with  a  large  drawing  representing  Leda 
stretched  out  under  the  swan.  That  room  was 
reached  by  a  winding  staircase,  which  ended  at  a 

C6i3 


MADAME     TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

narrow  door  opening  on  to  the  street,  and  above  it, 
all  night  long  a  little  lamp  burned,  behind  wire  bars, 
such  as  one  still  sees  in  some  towns,  at  the  foot  of 
some  shrine  of  a  saint. 

The  house,  which  was  old  and  damp,  rather 
smelled  of  mildew.  At  times  there  was  an  odour  of 
Eau  de  Cologne  in  the  passages,  or  a  half  open  door 
downstairs  admitted  the  noise  of  the  common  men 
sitting  and  drinking  downstairs,  to  the  first  floor, 
much  to  the  disgust  of  the  gentlemen  who  were  there. 
Madame,  who  was  familiar  with  those  of  her  cus- 
tomers with  whom  she  was  on  friendly  terms,  never 
left  the  drawing-room,  and  took  much  interest  in 
what  was  going  on  in  the  town,  and  they  regularly 
told  her  all  the  news.  Her  serious  conversation  was 
a  change  from  the  ceaseless  chatter  of  the  three 
women;  it  was  a  rest  from  the  obscene  jokes  of 
those  stout  individuals  who  every  evening  indulged 
in  the  common-place  debauchery  of  drinking  a  glass 
of  liquor  in  company  with  prostitutes. 

The  names  of  the  girls  on  the  first  floor  were  Fer- 
nande,  Raphaele,  and  Rosa  la  Rosse.  As  the  staff 
was  limited,  Madame  had  endeavoured  that  each 
member  of  it  should  be  a  pattern,  an  epitome  of 
the  feminine  type,  so  that  every  customer  might 
find  as  nearly  as  possible  the  realization  of  his  ideal. 
Fernande  represented  the  handsome  blonde;  she 
was  very  tall,  rather  fat,  and  lazy;  a  country  girl, 
who  could  not  get  rid  of  her  freckles,  and  whose 
short,  light,  almost  colourless,  tow-like  hair,  which 
was  like  combed-out  flax,  barely  covered  her  head. 

Raphaele,  who  came  from  Marseilles,  a  regular 
seaport  street-walker,  played  the  indispensable  part 

1:623 


MADAME    TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

of  the  handsome  Jewess,  and  was  thin,  with  high 
cheek  bones,  which  were  covered  with  rouge,  and 
her  black  hair,  which  was  always  covered  with 
pomade,  fell  in  curls  on  her  forehead.  Her  eyes 
would  have  been  handsome,  if  the  right  one  had 
not  had  a  speck  in  it.  Her  Roman  nose  came  down 
over  a  square  jaw,  where  two  false  upper  teeth 
contrasted  strangely  with  the  bad  colour  of  the 
rest. 

Rosa  la  Rosse  was  a  little  roll  of  fat,  nearly  all 
stomach,  with  very  short  legs,  and  from  morning 
till  night  she  sang  songs,  which  were  alternately 
indecent  or  sentimental,  in  a  harsh  voice,  told  silly, 
interminable  tales,  and  only  stopped  talking  in  order 
to  eat,  and  left  off  eating  in  order  to  talk;  she  was 
never  still,  and  was  active  as  a  squirrel,  in  spite  of 
her  fat,  and  of  her  short  legs;  and  her  laugh,  which 
was  a  torrent  of  shrill  cries,  resounded  here  and  there, 
ceaselessly,  in  a  bedroom,  in  the  attic,  in  the  cafe, 
everywhere,  and  about  nothing. 

The  two  women  on  the  ground  floor,  Louise, 
who  was  nicknamed  Cocote,  and  Flora,  whom 
they  called  Balan^ioire,  because  she  limped  a  little, 
looked  like  kitchen-maids  dressed  up  for  the  carni- 
val. The  former  always  dressed  as  Liberty,  with 
a  tri-coloured  sash,  and  the  other  as  a  Spanish 
woman,  with  a  string  of  copper  coins,  which  jingled 
at  every  step  she  took,  in  her  carroty  hair.  They 
were  like  all  other  women  of  the  lower  orders, 
neither  uglier  nor  better  looking  than  they  usually 
are.  They  looked  just  like  servants  at  an  inn,  and 
they  were  generally  called  the  two  Pumps, 

A  jealous  peace,  which  was,  however,  very  rarely 

[163  3 


MADAME     TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

disturbed,  reigned  among  these  five  women,  thanks 
to  Madame's  conciliatory  wisdom,  and  to  her  con- 
stant good  humour,  and  the  establishment,  which  was 
the  only  one  of  the  kind  in  the  httle  town,  was 
very  much  frequented.  Madame  had  succeeded 
in  giving  it  such  a  respectable  appearance,  she  was 
so  amiable  and  obhging  to  everybody,  her  good 
heart  was  so  well  known,  that  she  was  treated  with 
a  certain  amount  of  consideration.  The  regular 
customers  went  out  of  their  way  to  be  nice  to  her, 
and  were  delighted  when  she  was  especially  friendly 
towards  them,  and  when  they  met  during  the  day, 
they  would  say:  "Until  this  evening,  you  know 
where,"  just  as  men  say:  "At  the  cafe,  after 
dinner."  In  a  word,  Madame  TelHer's  house  was 
somewhere  to  go  to,  and  they  very  rarely  missed 
their  daily  meetings  there. 

One  evening,  towards  the  end  of  May,  the  first 
arrival,  Monsieur  Poufin,  who  was  a  timber  mer- 
chant, and  had  been  mayor,  found  the  door  shut. 
The  little  lantern  behind  the  grating  was  not  ahght; 
there  was  not  a  sound  in  the  house;  everything 
seemed  dead.  He  knocked,  gently  at  first,  but  then 
more  loudly,  but  nobody  answered  the  door.  Then 
he  went  slowly  up  the  street,  and  when  he  got  to 
the  market  place,  he  met  Monsieur  Duvert,  the 
shipbuilder,  who  was  going  to  the  same  place,  so 
they  went  back  together,  but  did  not  meet  with  any 
better  success.  But  suddenly  they  heard  a  loud 
noise  close  to  them,  and  on  going  round  the  house, 
they  saw  a  number  of  English  and  French  sailors, 
who  were  hammering  at  the  closed  shutters  of  the 
cafe  with  their  fists. 

1:641 


MADAME     TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

The  two  gentlemen  immediately  made  their  es- 
cape, for  fear  of  being  compromised,  but  a  low  "  Pst" 
stopped  them;  it  was  Monsieur  Tournevau,  the 
fish  curer,  who  had  recognized  them,  and  was 
trying  to  attract  their  attention.  They  told  him 
what  had  happened,  and  he  was  all  the  more 
vexed  at  it,  as  he,  a  married  man,  and  father  of 
a  family,  only  went  there  on  Saturdays,  securitatis 
causa,  as  he  said,  alluding  to  a  measure  of  sanitary 
policy,  which  his  friend  Doctor  Borde  had  ad- 
vised him  to  observe.  That  was  his  regular  eve- 
ning, and  now  he  should  be  deprived  of  it  for  the 
whole  week. 

The  three  men  went  as  far  as  the  quay  together, 
and  on  the  way  they  met  young  Monsieur  Philippe, 
the  banker's  son,  who  frequented  the  place  regularly, 
and  Monsieur  Pinipesse,  the  Collector  of  Taxes, 
and  they  all  returned  together  by  the  street  known 
as  "the  Ghetto,"  to  make  a  last  attempt.  But 
the  exasperated  sailors  were  besieging  the  house, 
throwing  stones  at  the  shutters,  and  shouting,  and 
the  five  first-floor  customers  went  away  as  quickly 
as  possible,  and  walked  aimlessly  about  the  streets. 

Presently  they  met  Monsieur  Dupuis,  the  in- 
surance agent,  and  then  Monsieur  Vasse,  the  Judge 
of  the  Tribunal  of  Commerce,  and  they  took  a  long 
walk,  going  to  the  pier  first  of  all,  where  they  sat 
down  in  a  row  on  the  granite  parapet,  and  watched 
the  waves  breaking.  The  foam  on  the  crest  of  the 
waves  gleamed  a  luminous  white  in  the  shadows, 
disappearing  almost  immediately,  and  the  monoto- 
nous noise  of  the  sea  breaking  on  the  rocks  was  pro- 
longed through  the  darkness  along  the  rocky  shore. 

1:653 


MADAME     TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

When  the  sad  promenaders  had  sat  there  for  some 
time,  Monsieur  Tournevau  said: 

"This  is  not  very  amusing!" 

"Decidedly  not,"  Monsieur  Pinipesse  replied, 
and  they  started  off  again  slowly. 

After  going  through  the  street,  which  is  called 
Sous-Ie-Bois,  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  they  returned 
over  the  wooden  bridge  which  crosses  the  Retenue, 
passed  close  to  the  railway,  and  came  out  again 
on  to  the  market  place,  when  suddenly  a  quarrel 
arose  between  Monsieur  Pinipesse,  the  Collector 
of  Taxes,  and  Monsieur  Tournevau,  about  an  edible 
fungus  which  one  of  them  declared  he  had  found  in 
the  neighbourhood. 

As  they  were  out  of  temper  already  from  sheer 
boredom,  they  would  very  probably  have  come  to 
blows,  if  the  others  had  not  interfered.  Monsieur 
Pinipesse  went  off  furious,  and  soon  another  alter- 
cation arose  between  the  ex-mayor.  Monsieur  Pouhn, 
and  Monsieur  Dupuis,  the  insurance  agent,  on  the 
subject  of  the  tax  collector's  salary,  and  the  profits 
which  he  might  make.  Insulting  remarks  were 
freely  passing  between  them,  when  a  torrent  of 
formidable  cries  was  heard,  and  the  body  of  sailors, 
who  were  tired  of  waiting  so  long  outside  a  closed 
house,  came  into  the  square.  They  were  walking 
arm-in-arm,  two  and  two,  and  formed  a  long  pro- 
cession, and  were  shouting  furiously.  The  landsmen 
went  and  hid  themselves  under  a  gateway,  and  the 
yelling  crew  disappeared  in  the  direction  of  the 
abbey.  For  a  long  time  they  still  heard  the  noise, 
which  diminished  like  a  storm  in  the  distance,  and 
then    silence  was    restored,   and    Monsieur    Poulin 

166-2 


MADAME    TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

and  Monsieur  Dupuis,  who  were  enraged  with  each 
other,  went  in  different  directions,  without  wishing 
each  other  good-bye. 

The  other  four  set  off  again,  and  instinctively 
went  in  the  direction  of  Madame  Tellier's  establish- 
ment, which  was  still  closed,  silent,  impenetrable. 
A  quiet,  but  obstinate,  drunken  man  was  knocking 
at  the  door  of  the  cafe,  and  then  stopped  and  called 
Frederic,  the  waiter,  in  a  low  voice,  but  finding  that 
he  got  no  answer,  he  sat  down  on  the  doorstep,  and 
waited  the  course  of  events. 

The  others  were  just  going  to  retire,  when  the 
noisy  band  of  sailors  reappeared  at  the  end  of  the 
street.  The  French  sailors  were  shouting  the 
Marseillaise,  and  the  Englishmen,  Rule  Britannia. 
There  was  a  general  lurching  against  the  wall,  and 
then  the  drunken  brutes  went  on  their  way  towards 
the  quay,  where  a  fight  broke  out  between  the  two 
nations,  in  the  course  of  which  an  Englishman 
had  his  arm  broken,  and  a  Frenchman  his  nose 
split. 

The  drunken  man,  who  had  stopped  outside  the 
door,  was  crying  by  that  time,  as  drunken  men  and 
children  cry,  when  they  are  vexed,  and  the  others 
went  away.  By  degrees,  calm  was  restored  in  the 
noisy  town;  here  and  there,  at  moments,  the  dis- 
tant sound  of  voices  could  be  heard,  and  then  died 
away  in  the  distance. 

One  man,  only,  was  still  wandering  about,  Mon- 
sieur Tournevau,  the  fish  curer,  who  was  vexed  at 
having  to  wait  until  the  next  Saturday,  and  he 
hoped  for  something  to  turn  up,  he  did  not  know 
what;  but  he  was  exasperated  at  the  police  for  thus 

1:673 


MADAME     TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

allowing  an  establishment  of  such  pubhc  utiUty, 
which  they  had  under  their  control,  to  be  closed. 

He  went  back  to  it,  examining  the  walls,  and  try- 
ing to  find  out  the  reason,  and  on  the  shutter 
he  saw  a  notice  stuck  up,  so  he  struck  a  wax  vesta, 
and  read  the  following  in  a  large,  uneven  hand: 
"Closed   on   account   of   Confirmation." 

Then  he  went  away,  as  he  saw  it  was  useless  to 
remain,  and  left  the  drunken  man  lying  on  the 
pavement  fast  asleep,  outside  that  inhospitable 
door. 

The  next  day,  all  the  regular  customers,  one  after 
the  other,  found  some  reason  for  going  through  the 
street  with  a  bundle  of  papers  under  their  arm,  to 
keep  them  in  countenance,  and  with  a  furtive  glance 
they  all  read  that  mysterious  notice: 

Closed  on  account  oj  Confirmation. 


PART  II 

The  fact  is,  Madame  had  a  brother,  who  was  a 
carpenter  in  their  native  place,  Virville  in  the  De- 
partment of  Eure.  When  Madame  had  still  kept 
the  inn  at  Yvetot,  she  had  stood  godmother  to  that 
brother's  daughter,  who  had  received  the  name  of 
Constance,  Constance  Rivet;  she  herself  being  a 
Rivet  on  her  father's  side.  The  carpenter,  who  knew 
that  his  sister  was  in  a  good  position,  did  not  lose 
sight  of  her,  although  they  did  not  meet  often,  for 
they  were  both  kept  at  home  by  their  occupations, 

[168: 


MADAME     TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

and  lived  a  long  way  from  each  other.  But  as  the 
girl  was  twelve  years  old,  and  going  to  be  confirmed, 
he  seized  that  opportunity  of  coming  together, 
and  wrote  to  his  sister  that  he  was  counting  on  her 
for  the  ceremony.  Their  old  parents  were  dead, 
and  as  she  could  not  well  refuse,  she  accepted  the 
invitation.  Her  brother,  whose  name  was  Joseph, 
hoped  that  by  dint  of  showing  his  sister  attentions, 
she  might  be  induced  to  make  her  will  in  the  girrs 
favour,  as  she  had  no  children  of  her  own. 

His  sister's  occupation  did  not  trouble  his  scruples 
in  the  least,  and  besides,  nobody  knew  anything 
about  it  in  Virville.  When  they  spoke  of  her,  they 
only  said:  "Madame  Tellier  is  living  at  Fecamp," 
which  might  mean  that  she  was  living  on  her  own 
private  income.  It  was  quite  twenty  miles  from 
Fecamp  to  Virville,  and  for  a  peasant,  twenty 
miles  on  land  are  more  than  is  crossing  the  ocean 
to  an  educated  person.  The  people  at  Virville 
had  never  been  farther  than  Rouen,  and  nothing 
attracted  the  people  from  Fecamp  to  a  village  of 
five  hundred  houses,  in  the  middle  of  a  plain,  and 
situated  in  another  department,  and,  at  any  rate, 
nothing  was  known  about  her  business. 

But  the  Confirmation  was  coming  on,  and  Ma- 
dame was  in  great  embarrassment.  She  had  no 
under  mistress,  and  did  not  care  to  leave  her 
house,  even  for  a  day,  for  all  the  rivalries  between 
the  girls  upstairs  and  those  downstairs,  would  in- 
fallibly break  out;  no  doubt  Frederic  would  get 
drunk,  and  when  he  was  in  that  state  he  would 
knock  anybody  down  for  a  mere  word.  At  last, 
however,  she  made  up  her  mind  to  take  them  all 

1:69a 


MADAME    TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

with  her,  with  the  exception  of  the  man,  to  whom 
she  gave  a  hohday,   until  the  next  day  but  one. 

When  she  asked  her  brother,  he  made  no  ob- 
jection, but  undertook  to  put  them  all  up  for  a 
night,  and  so  on  Saturday  morning,  the  eight  o'clock 
express  carried  oil  Madame  and  her  companions  in 
a  second-class  carriage.  As  far  as  Beuzeille,  they 
were  alone,  and  chattered  like  magpies,  but  at 
that  station  a  couple  got  in.  The  man,  an  old 
peasant,  dressed  in  a  blue  blouse  with  a  folding 
collar,  wide  sleeves,  tight  at  the  wrist,  and  orna- 
mented with  white  embroidery,  wore  an  old  high 
hat  whose  long  rusty  nap  seemed  to  stand  on  end, 
held  an  enormous  green  umbrella  in  one  hand,  and  a 
large  basket  in  the  other,  from  which  the  heads  of 
three  frightened  ducks  protruded.  The  woman,  who 
sat  stiffly  in  her  rustic  fmery,  had  a  face  like  a  fowl, 
and  with  a  nose  that  was  as  pointed  as  a  bill.  She 
sat  down  opposite  her  husband  and  did  not  stir,  as 
she  was  startled  at  finding  herself  in  such  smart 
company. 

There  was  certainly  an  array  of  striking  colours 
in  the  carriage.  Madame  was  dressed  in  blue  silk 
from  head  to  foot,  and  had  on  over  her  dress  a 
dazzling  red  shawl  of  imitation  French  cashmere. 
Fernande  was  panting  in  a  Scottish  plaid  dress, 
whose  bodice,  which  her  companions  had  laced  as 
tight  as  they  could,  had  forced  up  her  falling  bosom 
into  a  double  dome,  that  was  continually  heaving 
up  and  down,  and  which  seemed  liquid  beneath 
the  material.  Raphaele,  with  a  bonnet  covered 
with  feathers,  so  that  it  looked  like  a  nest  full  of 
birds,  had  on  a  lilac   dress  with  gold   spots   on  it. 


MADAME    TELLIER'S    ESTABLISHMENT 

and  there  was  something  Oriental  about  it  that 
suited  her  Jewish  face.  Rosa  la  Rosse  had  on 
a  pink  petticoat  with  large  flounces,  and  looked 
Hke  a  very  fat  child,  an  obese  dwarf;  while  the 
two  Pumps  looked  as  if  they  had  cut  their  dresses 
out  of  old,  flowered  curtains,  dating  from  the  Res- 
toration. 

As  soon  as  they  were  no  longer  alone  in  the  com- 
partment, the  ladies  put  on  staid  looks,  and  began 
to  talk  of  subjects  which  might  give  the  others  a 
high  opinion  of  them.  But  at  Bolbec  a  gentleman 
with  light  whiskers,  wearing  a  gold  chain,  and  two 
or  three  rings,  got  in,  and  put  several  parcels 
wrapped  in  oilcloth  into  the  net  over  his  head. 
He  looked  inclined  for  a  joke,  and  a  good-natured 
fellow.     He  saluted,  smiled,  and  said  affably: 

"Are  you  ladies  changing  to  another  garrison?" 

This  question  embarrassed  them  all  considerably. 
Madame,  however,  quickly  recovered  her  compo- 
sure, and  said  sharply,  to  avenge  the  honour  of 
her  corps: 

"I  think  you  might  try  and  be  polite!" 

He  excused  himself,  and  said:  "I  beg  your  par- 
don, I  ought  to  have  said  nunnery." 

As  Madame  could  not  think  of  a  retort,  or  per- 
haps as  she  thought  herself  justified  sufficiently, 
she  gave  him  a  dignified  bow,  and  pinched  in  her 
lips. 

Then  the  gentleman,  who  was  sitting  between 
Rosa  la  Rosse  and  the  old  peasant,  began  to  wink 
knowingly  at  the  ducks,  whose  heads  were  sticking 
out  of  the  basket,  and  when  he  felt  that  he  had  fixed 
the  attention  of  his  public,  he  began  to  tickle  them 

C713 


MADAME     TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

under  their  bills,  and  spoke  funnily  to  them,  to  make 
the  company  smile. 

"We  have  left  our  Httle  pond,  quack!  quack!  to 
make  the  acquaintance  of  the  httle  spit,  qu-ack! 
qu-ack!" 

The  unfortunate  creatures  turned  their  necks 
away,  to  avoid  his  caresses,  and  made  desperate 
efforts  to  get  out  of  their  wicker  prison,  and  then, 
suddenly,  all  at  once,  uttered  the  most  lament- 
able quacks  of  distress.  The  women  exploded  with 
laughter.  They  leaned  forward  and  pushed  each 
other,  so  as  to  see  better;  they  were  very  much 
interested  in  the  ducks,  and  the  gentleman  re- 
doubled his  airs,  his  wit,  and  his  teasing. 

Rosa  joined  in,  and  leaning  over  her  neighbour's 
legs,  she  kissed  the  three  animals  on  the  head,  and 
immediately  all  the  girls  wanted  to  kiss  them  in 
turn,  and  the  gentleman  took  them  on  to  his  knees, 
made  them  jump  up  and  down  and  pinched  them. 
The  two  peasants,  who  were  even  in  greater  con- 
sternation than  their  poultry,  rolled  their  eyes  as 
if  they  were  possessed,  without  venturing  to  move, 
and  their  old  wrinkled  faces  had  not  a  smile  nor 
a  movement. 

Then  the  gentleman,  who  was  a  commercial 
traveller,  offered  the  ladies  braces  by  way  of  a  joke, 
and  taking  up  one  of  his  packages,  he  opened  it.  It 
was  a  trick,  for  the  parcel  contained  garters.  There 
were  blue  silk,  pink  silk,  red  silk,  violet  silk,  mauve 
silk  garters,  and  the  buckles  were  made  of  two  gilt 
metal  Cupids,  embracing  each  other.  The  girls 
uttered  exclamations  of  delight  and  looked  at  them 
with  that  gravity  which   is   natural  to  a  woman 

C72: 


MADAME     TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

when  she  is  hankering  after  a  bargain.  They  con- 
sulted one  another  by  their  looks  or  in  a  whisper, 
and  repHed  in  the  same  manner,  and  Madame  was 
longingly  handling  a  pair  of  orange  garters  that  were 
broader  and  more  imposing  looking  than  the  rest; 
really  fit  for  the  mistress  of  such  an  establishment. 

The  gentleman  waited,  for  a  bright  idea  had 
struck  him. 

"Come,  my  dears,"  he  said,  "you  must  try  them 
on. 

There  was  a  storm  of  exclamations,  and  they 
squeezed  their  petticoats  between  their  legs,  as  if 
they  thought  he  was  going  to  ravish  them,  but  he 
quietly  waited  his  time,  and  said:  "Well,  if  you 
will  not,  I  shall  pack  them  up  again." 

And  he  added  cunningly:  "I  offer  any  pair  they 
like,  to  those  who  will  try  them  on." 

But  they  would  not,  and  sat  up  very  straight, 
and  looked  dignified. 

But  the  two  Pumps  looked  so  distressed  that  he 
renewed  the  offer  to  them,  and  Flora  Balan^oire  es- 
pecially visibly  hesitated.  He  pressed  her:  "  Come, 
my  dear,  a  little  courage!  Just  look  at  that  lilac 
pair;    it  will   suit   your   dress   admirably  .  .  ." 

That  decided  her,  and  pulling  up  her  dress  she 
showed  a  thick  leg  fit  for  a  milkmaid,  in  a  badly- 
fitting,  coarse  stocking.  The  commercial  'traveller 
stooped  down  and  fastened  the  garter  below  the 
knee  first  of  all  and  then  above  it;  and  he  tickled 
the  girl  gently,  which  made  her  scream  and  jump. 
When  he  had  done,  he  gave  her  the  lilac  pair,  and 
asked:    "Who  next?" 

"I!     I!"  they  all  shouted  at  once,  and  he  began 

l73l 


MADAME    TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

on  Rosa  la  Rosse,  who  uncovered  a  shapeless, 
round  thing  without  any  ankle,  a  regular  "sausage 
of  a  leg,"  as  Raphaele  used  to  say. 

The  commercial  traveller  complimented  Fernande, 
and  grew  quite  enthusiastic  over  her  powerful 
columns. 

The  thin  tibias  of  the  handsome  Jewess  met  with 
less  success,  and  Louise  Cocote,  by  way  of  a  joke, 
put  her  petticoats  over  his  head,  so  that  Madame 
was  obliged  to  interfere  to  check  such  unseemly 
behaviour. 

Lastly,  Madame  herself  put  out  her  leg,  a  hand- 
some, Norman  leg,  muscular  and  plump,  and  in  his 
surprise  and  pleasure,  the  commercial  traveller 
gallantly  took  off  his  hat  to  salute  that  master 
calf,  like  a  true  French  cavalier. 

The  two  peasants,  who  were  speechless  from  sur- 
prise, looked  aside,  out  of  the  corners  of  their  eyes, 
and  they  looked  so  exactly  like  fowls  that  the  man 
with  the  light  whiskers,  when  he  sat  up,  said  "cock- 
a-doodle-do!"  under  their  very  noses,  and  that  gave 
rise  to  another  storm  of  amusement. 

The  old  people  got  out  at  Motteville,  with  their 
basket,  their  ducks,  and  their  umbrella,  and  they 
heard  the  woman  say  to  her  husband,  as  they  went 
away: 

"They  are  bad  women,  who  are  off  to  that  cursed 
place  Paris." 

The  funny  commercial  traveller  himself  got  out 
at  Rouen,  after  behaving  so  coarsely,  that  Madame 
was  obliged  sharply  to  put  him  into  his  right  place, 
and  she  added,  as  a  moral:  "This  will  teach  us  not 
to  talk  to  the  first-comer." 

1:74: 


MADAME    TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

At  Oissel  they  changed  trains,  and  at  a  Httle  sta- 
tion farther  on,  Monsieur  Joseph  Rivet  was  waiting 
for  them  with  a  large  cart  and  a  number  of  chairs 
in  it,  which  was  drawn  by  a  white  horse. 

The  carpenter  pohtely  kissed  all  the  ladies,  and 
then  helped  them  into  his  conveyance. 

Three  of  them  sat  on  three  chairs  at  the  back, 
Raphaele,  Madame  and  her  brother  on  the  three 
chairs  in  front,  and  Rosa,  who  had  no  seat,  settled 
herself  as  comfortably  as  she  could  on  tall  Fernande's 
knees,  and  then  they  set  off. 

But  the  horse's  jerky  trot  shook  the  cart  so  terribly 
that  the  chairs  began  to  dance,  throwing  the  trav- 
ellers into  the  air,  to  the  right  and  to  the  left,  as  if 
they  had  been  dancing  puppets,  which  made  them 
make  frightened  grimaces,  and  scream  with  fear. 
But  this  was  suddenly  cut  short  by  another  jolt 
of  the  cart. 

They  clung  on  to  the  sides  of  the  vehicle,  their 
bonnets  fell  on  to  their  backs,  their  noses  on  their 
shoulders,  and  the  white  horse  went  on  stretching 
out  his  head,  and  holding  out  his  tail  quite  straight, 
a  little,  hairless  rat's  tail,  with  which  he  whisked 
his  buttocks  from  time  to  time. 

Joseph  Rivet,  with  one  leg  on  the  shafts  and  the 
other  bent  under  him,  held  out  the  reins  with  his 
elbows  very  high,  and  he  kept  uttering  a  kind  of 
chuckling  sound,  which  made  the  horse  prick  up 
its  ears  and  go  faster. 

The  green  country  extended  on  either  side  of  the 
road,  and  here  and  there  the  colza  in  flower  pre- 
sented a  waving  expanse  of  yellow,  from  which 
there  arose  a  strong,  wholesome,  sweet  and  pene- 

L75: 


MADAME    TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

trating  smell,  which  the  wind  carried  to  some  dis- 
tance. Cornflowers  showed  their  little  blue  heads 
among  the  tall  rye,  and  the  women  wanted  to  pick 
them,  but  Monsieur  Rivet  refused  to  stop.  Then 
sometimes  a  whole  field  appeared  to  be  covered  with 
blood,  so  thickly  were  the  poppies  growing,  and 
the  cart,  which  looked  as  if  it  were  filled  with  flowers 
of  more  brilliant  hue,  drove  on  through  the  fields 
coloured  with  wild  flowers,  and  disappeared  behind 
the  trees  of  a  farm,  only  to  reappear  and  to  go  on 
again  through  the  yellow  or  green  standing  crops, 
studded  with  red  or  blue,  a  dazzling  carload  of 
women,   fleeing  beneath  the  sun. 

One  o'clock  struck  as  they  drove  up  to  the  car- 
penter's door.  They  were  tired  out,  and  pale  with 
hunger,  as  they  had  eaten  nothing  since  they  left 
home,  and  Madame  Rivet  ran  out,  and  made  them 
alight,  one  after  another,  and  kissed  them  as  soon 
as  they  were  on  the  ground,  and  she  seemed  as  if 
she  would  never  tire  of  kissing  her  sister-in-law, 
whom  she  apparently  wanted  to  monopolize.  They 
had  lunch  in  the  workshop,  which  had  been  cleared 
out  for  the  next  day's  dinner. 

A  capital  omelette,  followed  by  fried  eel,  and 
washed  down  by  good,  sharp  cider,  made  them  all 
feel  comfortable. 

Rivet  had  taken  a  glass  so  that  he  might  drink 
their  health,  and  his  wife  cooked,  waited  on  them, 
brought  in  the  dishes,  took  them  out,  and  asked  all 
of  them  in  a  whisper  whether  they  had  everything 
they  wanted.  A  number  of  boards  standing  against 
the  walls,  and  heaps  of  shavings  that  had  been 
swept  into  the  corners,  gave  out  a  smell  of  planed 


MADAME    TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

wood,  or  carpentering,  that  resinous  odour  which 
penetrates  the  lungs. 

They  wanted  to  see  the  httle  girl,  but  she  had  gone 
to  church,  and  would  not  be  back  until  evening,  so 
they  all  went  out  for  a  stroll  in  the  country. 

It  v/as  a  small  village,  through  which  the  high 
road  passed.  Ten  or  a  dozen  houses  on  either  side 
of  the  single  street,  were  inhabited  by  the  butcher, 
the  grocer,  the  carpenter,  the  innkeeper,  the  shoe- 
maker, and  the  baker. 

The  church  was  at  the  end  of  the  street,  and  was 
surrounded  by  a  small  churchyard,  and  four  enor- 
mous lime-trees,  which  stood  just  outside  the  porch, 
shaded  it  completely.  It  was  built  of  flint,  in  no 
particular  style,  and  had  a  slated  steeple.  Beyond 
it,  the  open  country  began  again,  broken  here  and 
there  by  clumps  of  trees  which  hid  the  homestead. 

Although  he  was  in  his  working  clothes.  Rivet 
had  given  his  arm  to  his  sister,  out  of  politeness, 
and  was  walking  with  her  majestically.  His  wife, 
who  was  overwhelmed  by  Raphaele's  gold-spangled 
dress,  was  walking  between  her  and  Fernande,  and 
fat  Rosa  was  trotting  behind  with  Louise  Cocote 
and  Flora  Balan^oire,  who  was  limping  along,  quite 
tired  out. 

The  inhabitants  came  to  their  doors,  the  children 
left  off  playing,  and  a  window  curtain  would  be 
raised,  revealing  a  muslin  cap,  while  an  old  woman 
with  a  crutch,  and  who  was  almost  blind,  crossed 
herself  as  if  it  were  a  religious  procession,  and  they 
all  looked  for  a  long  time  after  those  handsome  ladies 
from  the  town,  who  had  come  so  far  to  be  present 
at  the  confirmation  of  Joseph  Rivet's  little  girl,  and 

1:773 


MADAME    TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

the  carpenter  rose  very  much  in  the  public  estima- 
tion. 

As  they  passed  the  church,  they  heard  some 
children  singing;  little  shrill  voices  were  singing  a 
hymn,  but  Madame  would  not  let  them  go  in,  for 
fear  of  disturbing  the  httle  cherubs. 

After  a  walk,  during  which  Joseph  Rivet  enumer- 
ated the  principal  landed  proprietors,  spoke  about 
the  yield  of  the  land,  and  productiveness  of  the  cows 
and  sheep,  he  took  his  herd  of  women  home  and 
installed  them  in  his  house,  and  as  it  was  very  small, 
they  had  put  them  into  the  rooms,  two  by  two. 

Just  for  once,  Rivet  would  sleep  in  the  work- 
shop on  the  shavings;  his  wife  was  going  to  share 
her  bed  with  her  sister-in-law,  and  Fernande  and 
Raphaele  were  to  sleep  together  in  the  next  room. 
Louise  and  Flora  were  put  into  the  kitchen,  where 
they  had  a  mattress  on  the  floor,  and  Rosa  had  a 
little  dark  cupboard  at  the  top  of  the  stairs  to 
herself,  close  to  the  loft,  where  the  candidate  for 
confirmation  was  to  sleep. 

When  the  girl  came  in,  she  was  overwhelmed 
with  kisses;  all  the  women  wished  to  caress  her, 
with  that  need  of  tender  expansion,  that  pro- 
fessional habit  of  wheedling,  which  had  made  them 
kiss  the  ducks  in  the  railway  carriage. 

They  all  took  her  on  to  their  laps,  stroked  her 
soft,  light  hair,  and  pressed  her  in  their  arms  with 
vehement  and  spontaneous  outbursts  of  affection, 
and  the  child,  who  was  very  good  and  religious, 
bore  it  all  patiently. 

As  the  day  had  been  a  fatiguing  one  for  every- 
body, they  all  went  to  bed  soon  after  dinner.  The 


MADAME    TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

whole  village  was  wrapped  in  that  perfect  stillness 
of  the  country,  which  is  almost  like  a  religious  silence, 
and  the  girls,  who  were  accustomed  to  the  noisy 
evenings  of  their  establishment,  felt  rather  impressed 
by  the  perfect  repose  of  the  sleeping  village,  and 
they  shivered,  not  with  cold,  but  with  those  httle 
shivers  of  soHtude  which  come  over  uneasy  and 
troubled  hearts. 

As  soon  as  they  were  in  bed,  two  and  two  to- 
gether, they  clasped  each  other  in  their  arms,  as 
if  to  protect  themselves  against  this  feehng  of  the 
calm  and  profound  slumber  of  the  earth.  But 
Rosa  la  Rosse,  who  was  alone  in  her  Httle  dark 
cupboard,  and  was  not  accustomed  to  sleep  alone, 
felt  a  vague  and  painful  emotion  come  over  her. 

She  was  tossing  about  in  bed,  unable  to  get  to 
sleep,  when  she  heard  the  faint  sobs  of  a  crying 
child  close  to  her  head  through  the  partition.  She 
was  frightened,  and  called  out,  and  was  answered 
by  a  weak  voice,  broken  by  sobs.  It  was  the  httle 
girl,  who  was  always  used  to  sleeping  in  her  mother's 
room,  and  who  was  frightened  in  her  small  attic. 

Rosa  was  dehghted,  got  up  softly  so  as  not  to 
awaken  anyone,  and  went  and  fetched  the  child. 
She  took  her  into  her  warm  bed,  kissed  her  and 
pressed  her  to  her  bosom,  cossetted  her,  lavished 
exaggerated  manifestations  of  tenderness  on  her, 
and  at  last  grew  calmer  herself  and  went  to  sleep. 
And  till  morning,  the  candidate  for  confirmation 
slept  with  her  head  on  the  prostitute's  naked  bosom. 

At  five  o'clock,  the  little  church  bell  ringing  the 
Angelus,  woke  the  women  up,  who  usually  slept 
the  whole  morning  long,  their  only  rest  after  the 

1:793 


MADAME      TELLIER'S    ESTABLISHMENT 

fatigues  of  the  night.  The  peasants  were  up  al- 
ready, and  the  women  went  busily  from  house  to 
house,  talking  animatedly,  carefully  bringing  short, 
starched,  mushn  dresses  in  bandboxes,  or  very 
long  wax  tapers,  with  a  bow  of  silk  Infringed  with 
gold  in  the  middle,  and  with  dents  in  the  wax  for 
the  fingers. 

The  sun  was  already  high  in  the  blue  sky,  which 
still  had  a  rosy  tint  towards  the  horizon,  hke  a  faint 
trace  of  dawn  remaining.  Families  of  fowls  were 
walking  about  outside  the  houses,  and  here  and 
there  a  black  cock,  with  a  glistening  breast,  raised 
his  head,  which  was  crowned  by  his  red  comb, 
flapped  his  wings,  and  uttered  his  shrill  crow, 
which  the  other  cocks  repeated. 

Vehicles  of  all  sorts  came  from  neighbouring 
parishes,  and  discharged  tall,  Norman  women,  in 
dark  dresses,  with  neckerchiefs  crossed  over  the 
bosom,  which  were  fastened  with  silver  brooches, 
a  hundred  years  old.  The  men  had  put  on  their 
blouses  over  their  new  frock-coats,  or  over  their 
old  dress-coats  of  green  cloth,  the  two  tails  of  which 
hung  down  below  their  blouses.  When  the  horses 
were  in  the  stable,  there  was  a  double  fine  of  rustic 
conveyances  along  the  road;  carts,  cabriolets,  til- 
buries, char-a-bancs,  traps  of  every  shape  and  age, 
resting  on  their  shafts,  or  else  with  them  in  the  air. 

The  carpenter's  house  was  as  busy  as  a  beehive. 
The  ladies,  in  dressing-jackets  and  petticoats,  with 
their  hanging  down,  thin,  short  hair,  which  looked 
as  if  it  were  faded  and  worn  by  use,  were  busy 
dressing  the  child,  who  was  standing  motionless 
on   a  table,   while   Madame  Tellier  was  directing 

CSoH 


MADAME     TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

the  movements  of  her  flying  column.  They  washed 
her,  did  her  hair,  dressed  her,  and  with  the  help  of 
a  number  of  pins,  they  arranged  the  folds  of  her 
dress,  and  took  in  the  waist,  which  was  too  large, 
and  made  her  look  as  elegant  as  possible.  Then, 
when  she  was  ready,  she  was  told  to  sit  down  and 
not  to  move,  and  the  crowd  of  excited  women 
hurried  off  to  get  ready  themselves. 

The  bell  of  the  httle  church  began  to  ring  again, 
and  its  poor  tinkle  was  lost  in  the  air,  Hke  a  feeble 
voice  which  is  soon  drowned  in  space.  The  can- 
didates came  out  of  the  houses,  and  went  towards 
the  parochial  building  which  contained  the  two 
schools  and  the  town  hall  and  stood  quiet  at  one  end 
of  the  village,  while  the  "House  of  God"  was  situ- 
ated at  the  other. 

The  parents,  in  their  very  best  clothes,  followed 
their  children,  with  awkward  looks,  and  those 
clumsy  movements  of  bodies  always  bent  at  work. 
The  httle  girls  disappeared  in  a  cloud  of  musHn, 
which  looked  like  whipped  cream,  while  the  lads, 
who  looked  hke  embryo  waiters,  and  whose  heads 
shone  with  pomade,  walked  with  their  legs  apart,  so 
as  not  to  get  any  dust  or  dirt  on  their  black  trousers. 

It  was  something  for  the  family  to  be  proud  of, 
when  a  large  number  of  relations,  who  had  come 
from  a  distance,  surrounded  the  child,  and,  conse- 
quently, the  carpenter's  triumph  was  complete. 
Madame  Tellier's  regiment,  with  its  mistress  at 
its  head,  followed  Constance;  her  father  gave  his 
arm  to  his  sister,  her  mother  walked  by  the  side  of 
Raphaele,  Fernande,  with  Rosa  and  the  two  Pumps 
together,     and     thus     they     walked     majestically 


MADAME    TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

through  the  village,  like  a  general's  staff  in  full  uni- 
form, while  the  effect  on  the  village  was  startUng. 

At  the  school,  the  girls  arranged  themselves  under 
the  Sister  of  Mercy,  and  the  boys  under  the  school- 
master, a  handsome  man,  who  looked  well,  and  they 
started  off,  singing  a  hymn  as  they  went.  The  boys 
led  the  way,  in  two  files,  between  the  two  rows  of 
unyoked  vehicles,  and  the  girls  followed  in  the  same 
order;  and  as  all  the  people  in  the  village  had 
given  the  town  ladies  the  precedence  out  of  polite- 
ness, they  came  immediately  behind  the  girls,  and 
lengthened  the  double  line  of  the  procession  still 
more,  three  on  the  right  and  three  on  the  left,  while 
their  dresses  were  as  striking  as  the  set  piece  in  a 
firework  display. 

When  they  went  into  the  church,  the  congrega- 
tion grew  quite  excited.  They  pressed  against  each 
other,  they  turned  round,  they  Jostled  one  another 
in  order  to  see,  and  some  of  the  devout  ones  spoke 
almost  aloud,  as  they  were  so  astonished  at  the 
sight  of  those  ladies  whose  dresses  were  more 
trimmed  than  the  chasubles  of  the  choir-boys. 

The  Mayor  offered  them  his  pew,  the  first  one  on 
the  right,  close  to  the  choir,  and  Madame  Tellier 
sat  there  with  her  sister-in-law,  Fernande  and  Ra- 
phaele,  Rosa  la  Rosse,  and  the  two  Pumps  occupied 
the  second  seat,   in  company  with  the  carpenter. 

The  choir  was  full  of  kneeling  children,  the  girls 
on  one  side,  and  the  boys  on  the  other,  and  the  long 
wax  tapers  which  they  held  looked  like  lances, 
pointing  in  all  directions,  and  three  men  were  stand- 
ing in  front  of  the  lectern,  singing  as  loud  as  they 
could.     They  prolonged  the  syllables  of  the  sono- 

1:823 


MADAME     TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

rous  Latin  indefinitely,  holding  on  to  Amens  with 
interminable  a  —  as,  while  the  serpent  kept  up  the 
monotonous,  long  drawn  out  notes,  which  that  long- 
throated,  copper  instrument  uttered.  A  child's  shrill 
voice  took  up  the  reply,  and  from  time  to  time  a 
priest  sitting  in  a  stall  and  wearing  a  square  biretta,. 
got  up,  muttered  something,  and  sat  down  again, 
while  the  three  singers  continued,  with  their  eyes 
fixed  on  the  big  book  of  plain-song  lying  open  be- 
fore them  on  the  outstretched  wings  of  an  eagle, 
mounted  on  a  pivot. 

Then  silence  ensued.  The  whole  congregation 
knelt  with  one  movement,  and  the  celebrant  ap- 
peared, old  and  venerable,  with  white  hair,  bent 
over  the  chalice  which  he  carried  in  his  left  hand. 
Two  assistants  in  red  robes  walked  in  front  of  him, 
and  behind  appeared  a  crowd  of  choristers  in  heavy 
clogs,  who  lined   up  on  both  sides  of  the  choir. 

A  small  bell  chimed  amidst  dead  silence.  The 
service  began.  The  priest  moved  slowly  back  and 
forth  in  front  of  the  tabernacle  of  gold,  genuflecting, 
intoning  in  a  cracked  voice,  lisping  with  age,  the 
preliminary  prayers.  As  soon  as  he  stopped  all 
the  choristers  and  the  organ  burst  forth  simul- 
taneously, and  in  the  congregation  men  also  sang, 
not  so  loudly,  more  humbly,  as  befits  mere  specta- 
tors. Suddenly  the  Kyrie  eleison  rose  to  the  heavens 
from  every  heart  and  throat.  Grains  of  dust  and 
fragments  of  mouldering  wood  actually  fell  from 
the  ancient  arch  which  was  shaken  by  this  explo- 
sion of  sound.  The  sun  beating  on  the  slates  of  the 
roof  turned  the  little  church  into  a  furnace.  A 
great  emotion,  an  anxious  wait,  the  imminence  of 

1:833 


MADAME    TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

the  ineffable  mystery,  filled  the  hearts  of  the  chil- 
dren with  awe,  and  touched  the  breasts  of  their 
mothers. 

The  priest,  who  had  remained  seated  for  some 
time,  walked  up  again  towards  the  altar  and,  bare- 
headed, with  his  silvery  hair,  he  approached  the 
supernatural  act  with  trembhng  gestures.  He 
turned  towards  the  faithful  and,  spreading  out  his 
hands,  pronounced  the  words:  "Orate,  jratres" 
"pray,  brethren."  They  all  prayed.  The  old  priest 
was  now  uttering  in  a  stammering  whisper  the  mys- 
terious and  supreme  words;  the  bell  chimed  several 
times  in  succession;  the  prostrate  crowd  called  upon 
God;  the  children  were  fainting  from  boundless 
anxiety. 

It  was  then  that  Rosa,  with  her  head  in  both  her 
hands,  suddenly  thought  of  her  mother  and  her 
village  church  on  her  first  communion.  She  almost 
fancied  that  that  day  had  returned,  when  she  was 
so  small,  and  almost  hidden  in  her  white  dress,  and 
she  began  to  cry. 

First  of  all,  she  wept  silently,  and  the  tears 
dropped  slowly  from  her  eyes,  but  her  emotion 
increased  with  her  recollections,  and  she  began  to 
sob.  She  took  out  her  pocket-handkerchief,  wiped 
her  eyes,  and  held  it  to  her  mouth,  so  as  not  to 
scream,  but  it  was  useless.  A  sort  of  rattle  escaped 
her  throat,  and  she  was  answered  by  two  other  pro- 
found, heart-breaking  sobs;  for  her  two  neighbours, 
Louise  and  Flora,  who  were  kneehng  near  her, 
overcome  by  similar  recollections,  were  sobbing  by 
her  side,  amidst  a  flood  of  tears,  and  as  tears  are 
contagious,  Madame  soon  in  turn  found  that  her 


MADAME    TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

eyes  were  wet,  and  on  turning  to  her  sister-in-law, 
she  saw  that  all  the  occupants  of  her  seat  were  also 
crying. 

The  priest  was  creating  the  body  of  Christ.  The 
children  were  unconscious  of  everything,  prostrated 
on  the  tiled  floor  by  burning  devotion,  and  through- 
out the  church,  here  and  there,  a  wife,  a  mother, 
a  sister,  seized  by  the  strange  sympathy  of  poignant 
emotion,  and  agitated  by  those  handsome  ladies  on 
their  knees,  who  were  shaken  by  their  sobs,  was 
moistening  her  checked  cotton  handkerchief,  and 
pressing  her  beating  heart  with  her  left  hand. 

Just  as  the  sparks  from  an  engine  will  set  fire  to 
dry  grass,  so  the  tears  of  Rosa  and  of  her  companions 
infected  the  whole  congregation  in  a  moment.  Men, 
women,  old  men,  and  lads  in  new  blouses  were  soon 
all  sobbing,  and  something  superhuman  seemed  to 
be  hovering  over  their  heads;  a  spirit,  the  powerful 
breath  of  an  invisible  and  all-powerful  being. 

Then,  in  the  choir  a  sharp  short  noise  resounded. 
The  Sister  of  Mercy  had  given  the  signal  for  com- 
munion by  striking  on  her  prayer-book,  and  the 
children,  shivering  with  a  divine  fever,  approached 
the  holy  table.  A  whole  row  knelt  down.  The  old 
priest,  holding  in  his  hand  the  pyx  of  gilt  silver, 
walked  in  front  of  them,  administering  the  sacred 
host,  the  body  of  Christ,  the  salvation  of  the  world. 
They  opened  their  mouths  convulsively,  with  nerv- 
ous grimaces,  their  eyes  shut  and  their  faces  deathly 
pale.  And  the  long  communion  altar  cloth,  spread 
out  beneath  their  chins,  quivered  like  running  water. 

Suddenly  a  species  of  madness  seemed  to  pervade 
the  church,  the  noise  of  a  crowd  in  a  state  of  frenzy, 

1:85: 


MADAME     TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

a  tempest  of  sobs  and  stifled  cries.  It  passed  through 
them  like  gusts  of  wind  which  bow  the  trees  in  a 
forest,  and  the  priest  remained  standing,  motionless, 
the  host  in  his  hand,  paralysed  by  emotion,  saying: 
"  It  is  God,  it  is  God  who  is  amongst  us,  manifesting 
his  presence.  He  is  descending  upon  his  kneehng 
people  in  reply  to  my  prayers."  He  stammered 
out  incoherent  prayers,  without  finding  words, 
prayers  of  the  soul,  when  it  soars  towards  heaven. 

He  finished  giving  communion  in  such  a  state  of 
rehgious  exaltation  that  his  legs  shook  under  him, 
and  when  he  himself  had  partaken  of  the  blood  of 
the  Lord,  he  plunged  into  a  prayer  of  ecstatic 
thanks. 

The  people  behind  him  gradually  grew  calmer. 
The  choristers,  in  all  the  dignity  of  their  white 
surplices,  went  on  in  somewhat  uncertain  voices, 
and  the  serpent  itself  seemed  hoarse,  as  if  the  in- 
strument had  been  weeping. 

Raising  his  hands  the  priest  then  made  a  sign  to 
them  to  be  silent,  and  passing  between  the  two  lines 
of  communicants  plunged  in  an  ecstasy  of  happiness, 
he  went  up  to  the  chancel  steps.  The  congregation 
sat  down  amidst  the  noise  of  chairs,  and  they  all 
blew  their  noses  violently.  As  soon  as  they  saw  the 
priest,  there  was  silence,  and  he  began  to  speak  in 
low,  muffled,  hesitating  tones:  "My  dear  brethren 
and  sisters,  and  children,  I  thank  you  from  the 
bottom  of  my  heart.  You  have  just  given  me  the 
greatest  joy  of  my  fife.  I  felt  that  God  was  coming 
down  amongst  us  in  response  to  my  call.  He  came, 
he  was  there,  present,  filHng  your  souls,  causing  your 
tears  to  overflow.     I  am  the  oldest  priest  in  the 

n863 


MADAME    TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

diocese,  and  to-day  I  am  the  happiest.  A  miracle 
has  taken  place  among  us,  a  true,  a  great,  a  sublime 
miracle.  While  Jesus  Christ  was  entering  the 
bodies  of  these  Httle  children  for  the  first  time, 
the  Holy  Spirit,  the  celestial  bird,  the  breath  of 
God  descended  upon  you,  possessed  you,  seized 
you,   and  bent   you   Hke   reeds   in   the  wind." 

Then,  in  firmer  tones,  turning  towards  the  two 
pews  where  the  carpenter's  guests  were  seated: 

*'I  especially  thank  you,  my  dear  sisters,  who 
have  come  from  such  a  distance,  and  whose  presence 
among  us,  whose  evident  faith  and  ardent  piety 
have  set  such  a  salutary  example  to  all.  You  have 
edified  my  parish;  your  emotion  has  warmed  all 
hearts;  without  you,  this  great  day  would  not, 
perhaps,  have  had  this  really  divine  character.  It 
is  sufficient,  at  times,  that  there  should  be  one 
chosen  to  keep  in  the  flock,  to  make  the  whole 
flock  blessed." 

His  voice  failed  him  from  emotion.  He  added: 
"I  pray  for  grace  for  you.  Amen."  And  he  re- 
turned to  the  altar  to  conclude  the  service. 

Then  they  all  left  the  church  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible, and  the  children  themselves  were  restless,  as 
they  were  tired  with  such  a  prolonged  tension  of  the 
mind.  Besides  that,  they  were  hungry,  and  by  de- 
grees the  parents  left  without  waiting  for  the  last 
gospel,  to  see  about  dinner. 

There  was  a  crowd  outside,  a  noisy  crowd,  a  babel 
of  loud  voices,  where  the  shrill  Norman  accent 
was  discernible.  The  villagers  formed  two  ranks, 
and  when  the  children  appeared,  each  family  seized 
its  own. 


MADAME     TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

The  whole  houseful  of  women  caught  hold  of  Con- 
stance, surrounded  her  and  kissed  her,  and  Rosa 
was  especially  demonstrative.  At  last  she  took 
hold  of  one  hand,  while  Madame  TeUier  held  the 
other,  and  Raphaele  and  Fernande  held  up  her 
long  muslin  petticoat,  so  that  it  might  not  drag  in 
the  dust;  Louise  and  Flora  brought  up  the  rear  with 
Madame  Rivet,  and  the  child,  who  was  very  silent 
and  thoughtful,  filled  with  the  sense  of  God  whom 
she  had  absorbed,  set  off  home,  in  the  midst  of  this 
guard  of  honour. 

The  dinner  was  served  in  the  workshop,  on  long 
boards  supported  by  trestles,  and  through  the  open 
door  they  could  see  all  the  enjoyment  that  was  going 
on.  Everywhere  they  were  feasting,  and  through 
every  window  were  to  be  seen  tables  surrounded  by 
people  in  their  Sunday  best,  and  a  cheerful  noise 
was  heard  in  every  house,  while  the  men  were  sitting 
in  their  shirt-sleeves,  drinking  pure  cider,  glass  after 
glass,  and  in  the  middle  of  each  company  two 
children  could  be  seen,  here  two  boys,  there  two 
girls,   dining  one  with  the  family  of  the  other. 

In  the  carpenter's  house,  their  gaiety  main- 
tained somewhat  of  an  air  of  reserve,  which  was 
the  consequence  of  the  emotion  of  the  girls  in  the 
morning,  and  Rivet  was  the  only  one  who  was  in  a 
good  form,  and  he  was  drinking  to  excess.  Madame 
Tellier  was  looking  at  the  clock  every  moment,  for, 
in  order  not  to  lose  two  days  following,  they  ought 
to  take  the  3:  ^^  train,  which  would  bring  them  to 
Fecamp  towards  evening. 

The  carpenter  tried  very  hard  to  distract  her  at- 
tention, so  as  to  keep  his  guests  until  the  next  day, 

CSS  3 


MADAME    TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

but  he  did  not  succeed,  for  she  never  joked  when 
there  was  business  to  be  done,  and  as  soon  as  they 
had  had  their  coffee  she  ordered  her  girls  to  make 
haste  and  get  ready,  and  then,  turning  to  her  brother, 
she  said: 

"You  must  have  the  horses  put  in  immediately," 
and  she  herself  went  to  finish  her  last  preparations. 

When  she  came  down  again,  her  sister-in-law 
was  waiting  to  speak  to  her  about  the  child,  and  a 
long  conversation  took  place,  in  which,  however, 
nothing  was  settled.  The  carpenter's  wife  finished, 
and  pretended  to  be  very  much  moved,  and  Madame 
TelHer,  who  was  holding  the  girl  on  her  knees, 
would  not  pledge  herself  to  anything  definite,  but 
merely  gave  vague  promises  .  .  .  she  would  not 
forget  her,  there  was  plenty  of  time,  and  then, 
they  would  meet  again. 

But  the  conveyance  did  not  come  to  the  door, 
and  the  women  did  not  come  downstairs.  Up- 
stairs, they  even  heard  loud  laughter,  falls,  little 
screams,  and  much  clapping  of  hands,  and  so, 
while  the  carpenter's  wife  went  to  the  stable  to 
see  whether  the  cart  was  ready,  Madame  went 
upstairs. 

Rivet,  who  was  very  drunk,  and  half  undressed, 
was  vainly  trying  to  violate  Rosa,  who  was  dying 
with  laughter.  The  two  Pumps  were  holding  him 
by  the  arms  and  trying  to  calm  him,  as  they  were 
shocked  at  such  a  scene  after  that  morning's  cere- 
mony; but  Raphaele  and  Fernande  were  urging 
him  on,  writhing  and  holding  their  sides  with  laugh- 
ter, and  they  uttered  shrill  cries  at  every  useless 
attempt  that  the  drunken  fellow  made.     The  man 


MADAME     TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

was  furious,  his  face  was  red,  he  was  all  unbuttoned, 
and  he  was  trying  to  shake  off  the  two  women  who 
were  clinging  to  him,  while  he  was  pulling  at  Rosa's 
dress  with  all  his  might  and  muttering:  "So  you 
won't,  you  hussy?" 

But  Madame,  who  was  very  indignant,  went  up 
to  her  brother,  seized  him  by  the  shoulders,  and 
threw  him  out  of  the  room  with  such  violence  that 
he  fell  against  a  wall  in  the  passage,  and  a  minute 
afterwards  they  heard  him  pumping  water  on  to  his 
head  in  the  yard,  and  when  he  came  back  with  the 
cart,  he  was  quite  calm. 

They  returned  the  same  way  as  they  had  come 
the  day  before,  and  the  little  white  horse  started 
off,  with  his  quick,  dancing  trot.  Under  the  hot 
sun,  their  fun,  which  had  been  checked  during  din- 
ner, broke  out  again.  The  girls  were  now  amused 
at  the  jolts  which  the  wagon  gave,  pushed  their 
neighbour's  chairs,  and  burst  out  laughing  every  mo- 
ment, for  they  were  in  the  vein  for  it,  after  Rivet's 
vain  attempt. 

There  was  a  haze  over  the  country,  the  roads 
were  glaring,  and  dazzled  their  eyes,  and  the  wheels 
raised  up  two  trails  of  dust,  which  followed  the  cart 
for  a  long  time  along  the  high  road,  and  presently 
Fernande,  who  was  fond  of  music,  asked  Rosa  to 
sing  something,  and  she  boldly  struck  up  the  Gros 
Cure  de  Meudon,  but  Madame  made  her  stop  im- 
mediately, as  she  thought  it  a  song  which  was  very 
unsuitable  for  such  a  day,  and  she  added: 

"Sing  us  something  of  Beranger's."  And  so, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation,  she  began  Beranger's 
song,   The  Grandmother,  in  her  worn-out  voice: 


MADAME    TELLIER'S    ESTABLISHMENT 

Ma  grand'mere,  un  soir  a  sa  fete, 
De  vin  pur  ayant  bu  deux  doigts, 
Nous  disait,  en  branlant  la  tete: 
Que  d'amoureux  j'eus  autrefois! 


Combien  je  regrette 
Mon  bras  si  dodu. 
Ma  jambe  bien  Jaite, 
Et  le  temps  perdu! 


And  the  girls  in  chorus,  led  by  Madame,  repeated 
the  refrain: 

Combien  je  regrette 
Mon  bras  si  dodu, 
Ala  jambe  bien  Jaite, 
Et  le  temps  perdu! 

"That's  fine!"  declared  Rivet,  carried  away  by  the 
rhythm,  and  Rosa  went  on  at  once: 

Quoi,  maman,  vous  n'etiez  pas  sage? 
—  Non,  vraiment!  et  de  mes  appas, 
Seule,  a  quinze  ans,  j'appris  Tusage, 
Car  la  nuit,  je  ne  dormais  pas. 

They  all  shouted  the  refrain  to  every  verse,  while 
Rivet  beat  time  on  the  shafts  with  his  foot,  and  on 
the  horse's  back  with  the  reins,  who,  as  if  he  him- 
self were  carried  away  by  the  rhythm,  broke  into  a 
wild  gallop,  and  threw  all  the  women  in  a  heap, 
one  on  the  top  of  the  other,  on  the  bottom  of  the 
conveyance. 

They  got  up,  laughing  wildly,  and  the  song  went 
on,  shouted  at  the  top  of  their  voices,  beneath  the 
burning  sky,  among  the  ripening  grain,  to  the  rapid 

1:9a 


MADAME    TELLIER'S    ESTABLISHMENT 

gallop  of  the  little  horse,  who  set  off  every  time  the 
refrain  was  sung,  and  galloped  a  hundred  yards,  to 
their  great  delight,  while  occasionally  a  stone 
breaker  by  the  roadside  sat  up  and  looked  at  the 
wild  and  shouting  female  load  through  his  wire 
spectacles. 

When  they  got  out  at  the  station,  the  carpenter 
said : 

*'I  am  sorry  you  are  going;  we  might  have  had 
some  fun  together."  But  Madame  replied  very 
sensibly:  "Everything  has  its  right  time,  and  we 
cannot  always  be  enjoying  ourselves."  And  then 
he  had  a  sudden  inspiration: 

"Look  here,  I  will  come  and  see  you  at  Fecamp 
next  month."  And  he  gave  a  knowing  look,  with  a 
bright  and  roguish  eye. 

"Come,"  Madame  said,  "you  must  be  sensible; 
you  may  come  if  you  like,  but  you  are  not  to  be  up 
to  any  of  your  tricks." 

He  did  not  reply,  and  as  they  heard  the  whistle 
of  the  train,  he  immediately  began  to  kiss  them  all. 
When  he  came  to  Rosa's  turn,  he  tried  to  get  to  her 
mouth,  which  she,  however,  smiling  with  her  lips 
closed,  turned  away  from  him  each  time  by  a  rapid 
movement  of  her  head  to  one  side.  He  held  her  in 
his  arms,  but  he  could  not  attain  his  object,  as  his 
large  whip,  which  he  was  holding  in  his  hand  and 
waving  behind  the  girl's  back  in  desperation,  in- 
terfered with  his  efforts. 

"Passengers  for  Rouen,  take  your  seats,  please!" 
a  guard  cried,  and  they  got  in.  There  was  a  slight 
whistle,  followed  by  a  loud  whistle,  from  the  engine, 
which  noisily  puffed  out  its  first  jet  of  steam,  while 

1:90 


MADAME    TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

the  wheels  began  to  turn  a  little,  with  a  visible  ef- 
fort, and  Rivet  left  the  station  and  went  to  the  gate 
by  the  side  of  the  Hne  to  get  another  look  at  Rosa, 
and  as  the  carriage  full  of  human  merchandise 
passed  him,  he  began  to  crack  his  whip  and  to 
jump,  while  he  sang  at  the  top  of  his  voice: 

Combien  je  regrette 
Mon  bras  si  dodu. 
Ma  jambe  bien  Jaite, 
Et  le  temps  perdu  ! 

And  then  he  watched  a  white  pocket-handker- 
chief, which  somebody  was  waving,  as  it  disappeared 
in  the  distance. 


PART   III 

They  slept  the  peaceful  sleep  of  a  quiet  con- 
science, until  they  got  to  Rouen,  and  when  they  re- 
turned to  the  house,  refreshed  and  rested,  Madame 
could  not  help  saying: 

"It  was  all  very  well,  but  I  was  aheady  longing 
to  get  home." 

They  hurried  over  their  supper,  and  then, 
when  they  had  put  on  their  professional  costume, 
waited  for  their  usual  customers,  and  the  little 
coloured  lamp  outside  the  door  told  the  passers-by 
that  the  flock  had  returned  to  the  fold,  and  in  a 
moment  the  news  spread,  nobody  knew  how  or  by 
whom.  Monsieur  Philhppe,  the  banker's  son,  even 
carried  his  forgetfulness  so  far,  as  to  send  a  special 

1:93: 


MADAME     TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT. 

messenger  to  Monsieur  Tournevau,  who  was  con- 
fined to  the  bosom  of  his  family. 

The  fish-curer  used  every  Sunday  to  have  several 
cousins  to  dinner,  and  they  were  having  coffee, 
when  a  man  came  in  with  a  letter  in  his  hand. 
Monsieur  Tournevau  was  much  excited,  he  opened 
the  envelope  and  grew  pale;  it  only  contained  these 
words  in  pencil: 

''The  cargo  of  cod  has  been  found;  the  ship  has 
come  into  port;  good  business  for  you.  Come  im- 
mediately.'' 

He  felt  in  his  pockets,  gave  the  messenger  two- 
pence, and  suddenly  blushing  to  his  ears,  he  said: 
"I  must  go  out."  He  handed  his  wife  the  laconic 
and  mysterious  note,  rang  the  bell,  and  when  the 
servant  came  in,  he  asked  her  to  bring  him  his  hat 
and  overcoat  immediately.  As  soon  as  he  was  in 
the  street,  he  began  to  run,  and  the  way  seemed  to 
him  to  be  twice  as  long  as  usual,  his  impatience  was 
so  great. 

Madame  Tellier's  establishment  had  put  on 
quite  a  holiday  look.  On  the  ground  floor,  a  num- 
ber of  sailors  were  making  a  deafening  noise,  and 
Louise  and  Flora  drank  with  one  and  the  other, 
so  as  to  merit  their  name  of  the  two  Pumps  more 
than  ever.  They  were  being  called  for  everywhere 
at  once;  already  they  were  not  able  to  cope  with 
business,  and  the  night  bid  fair  to  be  a  very  busy 
one  for  them. 

The  circle  in  the  upstairs  room  was  complete  by 
nine  o'clock.  Monsieur  Vasse,  the  Judge  of  the 
Tribunal  of  Commerce,  Madame's  usual,  but  Pla- 
tonic wooer,  was  talking  to  her  in  a  corner,  in  a 

C94II 


MADAME    TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

low  voice,  and  they  were  both  smihng,  as  if  they 
were  about  to  come  to  an  understanding.  Mon- 
sieur Poulin,  the  ex-mayor,  was  holding  Rosa 
astride  on  his  knees;  and  she,  with  her  nose  close 
to  his,  was  running  her  podgy  hands  through  the 
old  gentleman's  white  whiskers.  A  ghmpse  of  her 
bare  thigh  was  visible  beneath  her  upraised  dress 
of  yellow  silk,  and  was  thrown  into  rehef  by  the 
background  of  his  dark  trousers,  while  her  red  stock- 
ings were  held  up  by  blue  garters,  the  commercial 
traveller's  present. 

Tall  Fernande,  who  was  lying  on  the  sofa,  had 
both  her  feet  on  Monsieur  Pinipesse,  the  tax-col- 
lector's stomach,  and  her  back  on  young  Mon- 
sieur Phihppc's  waistcoat;  her  right  arm  was  round 
his  neck,  while  she  held  a  cigarette  in  her  left. 

Raphaele  appeared  to  be  discussing  matters 
with  Monsieur  Dupuis,  the  insurance  agent,  and 
she  finished  by  saying:  "Yes,  my  dear,  I  will, 
this  evening."  Then  waltzing  across  the  room, — 
"Anything  you  hke  this  evening,"  she  cried. 

Just  then,  the  door  opened  suddenly,  and  Mon- 
sieur Tournevau  came  in,  who  was  greeted  with 
enthusiastic  cries  of:  "Long  live  Tournevau!"  And 
Raphaele,  who  was  still  twirling  round,  went  and 
threw  herself  into  his  arms.  He  seized  her  in  a 
vigorous  embrace,  and  without  saying  a  word, 
lifting  her  up  as  if  she  had  been  a  feather,  he  went 
through  the  room,  opened  the  door  at  the  other  end 
and  disappeared  with  his  living  burden  in  the 
direction   of  the   stairs,    amidst   great   applause. 

Rosa,  who  was  exciting  the  ex-mayor,  kissing  him 
every  moment,  and  pulling  both  his  whiskers  at  the 

1952 


MADAME     TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

same  time  in  order  to  keep  his  head  straight,  was 
inspired  by  this  example.  "Come,  do  what  he  did," 
she  said.  The  old  boy  got  up,  pulled  his  waistcoat 
straight,  and  followed  the  girl,  fumbhng  in  the 
pocket  where  he  kept  his  money. 

Fernande  and  Madame  remained  with  the  four 
men,  and  Monsieur  PhiHppe  exclaimed:  "I  will 
pay  for  some  champagne;  get  three  bottles,  Madame 
Telher."  And  Fernande  gave  him  a  hug,  and 
whispered  to  him:  "Play  us  a  waltz,  will  you?" 
So  he  rose  and  sat  down  at  the  old  piano  in  the 
corner,  and  managed  to  get  a  hoarse  waltz  out  of 
the  entrails  of  the  instrument.  The  tall  girl  put 
her  arms  round  the  Tax-Collector,  Madame  fell  into 
the  arms  of  Monsieur  Vasse,  and  the  two  couples 
turned  round,  kissing  as  they  danced.  Monsieur 
Vasse,  who  had  formerly  danced  in  good  society, 
waltzed  with  such  elegance  that  Madame  was 
quite  captivated.  She  looked  at  him  with  a  glance 
which  said  "Yes,"  a  more  discreet  and  delicious 
"Yes"  than  the  spoken  word. 

Frederic  brought  the  champagne;  the  first  cork 
popped,  and  Monsieur  Philippe  played  the  intro- 
duction to  a  quadrille,  through  which  the  four 
dancers  walked  in  society  fashion,  decorously,  with 
propriety,  deportment,  bows  and  curtsies,  and  then 
they  began  to  drink.  Monsieur  Tournevau  re- 
turned, relieved,  contented,  radiant.  "I  do  not 
know,"  he  said,  "what  has  happened  to  Raphaele; 
she  is  perfect  this  evening."  A  glass  was  handed 
to  him  and  he  drank  it  off  at  a  gulp,  as  he  murmured, 
"  By  heavens,  everything  is  being  done  on  a  luxurious 
scale!" 

1:963 


MADAME    TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

Monsieur  Philippe  at  once  struck  up  a  lively 
polka,  and  Monsieur  Tournevau  started  off  with 
the  handsome  Jewess,  whom  he  held  up  in  the  air, 
without  letting  her  feet  touch  the  ground.  Mon- 
sieur Pinipesse  and  Monsieur  Vasse  had  started 
off  with  renewed  vigour,  and  from  time  to  time  one  or 
other  couple  would  stop  to  toss  off  a  long  glass  of 
sparkhng  wine,  and  the  dance  was  threatening 
to  become  never-ending,  when  Rosa  opened  the 
door. 

She  had  a  candlestick  in  her  hand,  her  hair  was 
down,  and  she  was  in  bedroom  sHppers  and  chemise. 
Her  face  was  flushed  and  very  animated:  "I  want 
to  dance,"  she  shouted.  "And  what  about  the 
old  gentleman?"  Raphaele  asked.  Rosa  burst  out 
laughing:  "Him?  he's  asleep  already.  He  falls 
asleep  at  once."  She  caught  hold  of  Monsieur 
Dupuis,  who  was  sitting  on  the  sofa  doing  nothing, 
and  the  polka  was  resumed. 

But  the  bottles  were  empty.  "  I  will  pay  for  one," 
Monsieur  Tournevau  said.  "So  will  I,"  Monsieur 
Vasse  declared.  "And  I  will  do  the  same,"  Mon- 
sieur Dupuis  remarked. 

They  all  began  to  clap  their  hands,  and  it  soon 
became  a  regular  ball,  and  from  time  to  time,  Louise 
and  Flora  ran  upstairs  quickly,  had  a  few  turns, 
while  their  customers  downstairs  grew  impatient, 
and  then  they  returned  regretfully  to  the  cafe.  At 
midnight  they  were  still  dancing.  From  time  to 
time  one  of  the  girls  would  disappear,  and  when  she 
was  wanted  for  the  dance,  it  would  suddenly  be 
discovered  that  one  of  the  men  was  also  missing. 

"Where  have  you  been?"  asked  Monsieur  Phi- 

1:973 


MADAME     TELLIER'S     ESTABLISHMENT 

lippe,  jocularly,  when  Monsieur  Pfnipesse  returned 
with  Fernande.  "Watching  Monsieur  Poulin  sleep," 
replied  the  Tax-CoIIector.  The  joke  was  a  great 
success,  and  all  the  men  in  turn  went  upstairs  to 
see  Monsieur  Poulin  sleeping,  with  one  or  other  of 
the  girls,  who  on  this  occasion  displayed  an  unusual 
amiability. 

Madame  shut  her  eyes  to  what  was  going  on  and 
she  had  long  private  talks  in  corners  with  Monsieur 
Vasse,  as  if  to  settle  the  last  details  of  something 
that  had  already  been  settled. 

At  last,  at  one  o'clock,  the  two  married  men. 
Monsieur  Tournevau  and  Monsieur  Pinipesse,  de- 
clared that  they  were  going  home,  and  wanted  to  pay. 
Nothing  was  charged  for  except  the  champagne, 
and  that  only  cost  six  francs  a  bottle,  instead  of  ten, 
which  was  the  usual  price,  and  when  they  expressed 
their  surprise  at  such  generosity,  Madame,  who  was 
beaming,  said  to  them: 

"We  don't  have  a  holiday  every  day." 


CqSD 


STORY     OF     A     FARM     GIRL 

AS  the  weather  was  very  fine,  the  people  on  the 
farm  had  dined  more  speedily  than  usual,  and 
had  returned  to  the  fields. 

The  female  servant.  Rose,  remained  alone  in  the 
large  kitchen,  where  the  fire  on  the  hearth  was  dying 
out,  under  the  large  pot  of  hot  water.  From  time 
to  time  she  took  some  water  out  of  it,  and  slowly 
washed  her  plates  and  dishes,  stopping  occasionally 
to  look  at  the  two  streaks  of  light  which  the  sun 
threw  on  to  the  long  table  through  the  window, 
and  which  showed  the  defects  in  the  glass. 

Three  venturesome  hens  were  picking  up  the 
crumbs  under  the  chairs,  while  the  smell  of  the 
poultry  yard,  and  the  warmth  from  the  cow-stall 
came  in  through  the  half-open  door,  and  a  cock  was 
heard  crowing  in  the  distance. 

When  she  had  finished  her  work,  wiped  down  the 
table,  dusted  the  mantel-piece,  and  put  the  plates 
on  the  high  dresser,  close  to  the  wooden  clock,  with 
its  sonorous  ticking,  she  drew  a  long  breath,  as  she 
felt  rather  oppressed,  without  exactly  knowing  why. 
She  looked  at  the  black  clay  walls,  the  rafters  that 
were  blackened  with  smoke,  from  which  spiders' 
webs  were  hanging,  amid  red  herrings  and  strings 
of  onions,  and  then  she  sat  down,  rather  overcome 
by  the  stale  emanations  which  the  floor,  on  which 

1:99: 


STORY    OF    A     FARM     GIRL 

SO  many  things  had  been  continually  spilt,  gave  out. 
With  this  there  was  mingled  the  pungent  smell  of 
the  pans  of  milk,  which  were  set  out  to  raise  the 
cream  in  the  adjoining  dairy. 

She  wanted  to  sew,  as  usual,  but  she  did  not  feel 
strong  enough  for  it,  and  so  she  went  to  get  a 
mouthful  of  fresh  air  at  the  door.  As  she  felt  the 
caressing  light  of  the  sun,  her  heart  was  filled  with 
sweetness  and  a  feeling  of  content  penetrated  her 
body. 

In  front  of  the  door  a  shimmery  haze  arose  from 
the  dunghill.  The  fowls  were  lying  on  it;  some  of 
them  were  scratching  with  one  claw  in  search  of 
worms,  while  the  cock  stood  up  proudly  among  them. 
Every  moment  he  selected  one  of  them,  and  walked 
round  her  with  a  slight  cluck  of  amorous  invitation. 
The  hen  got  up  in  a  careless  way  as  she  received  his 
attentions,  bent  her  claws  and  supported  him  with 
her  wings;  then  she  shook  her  feathers  to  shake  out 
the  dust,  and  stretched  herself  out  on  the  dunghill 
again,  while  he  crowed,  counting  his  triumphs,  and 
the  cocks  in  all  the  neighbouring  farmyards  replied 
to  him,  as  if  they  were  uttering  amorous  challenges 
from  farm  to  farm. 

The  girl  looked  at  them  without  thinking,  and 
then  she  raised  her  eyes  and  was  almost  dazzled  at 
the  sight  of  the  apple-trees  in  blossom,  which  looked 
almost  like  powdered  heads.  But  just  then,  a  colt, 
full  of  life  and  friskiness,  galloped  past  her.  Twice 
he  jumped  over  the  ditches,  and  then  stopped 
suddenly,  as  if  surprised  at  being  alone. 

She  also  felt  inclined  to  run;  she  felt  incHned  to 
move  and  to  stretch  her  limbs,  and  to  repose  in 

n  100  3 


STORY    OF    A     FARM    GIRL 

the  warm,  breathless  air.  She  took  a  few  undecided 
steps,  and  closed  her  eyes,  for  she  was  seized  with  a 
feeling  of  animal  comfort;  and  then  she  went  to 
look  for  the  eggs  in  the  hen  loft.  There  were  thirteen 
of  them,  which  she  took  in  and  put  into  the  side- 
board; but  the  smell  from  the  kitchen  incommoded 
her  again,  and  she  went  out  to  sit  on  the  grass  for 
a  while. 

The  farmyard,  which  was  surrounded  by  trees, 
seemed  to  be  asleep.  The  tall  grass,  among  which 
the  yellow  dandelions  rose  up  like  streaks  of  yellow 
light,  was  of  a  vivid  green,  fresh  spring  green.  The 
apple-trees  threw  their  shade  all  round  them,  and 
the  thatched  houses,  on  which  the  blue  and  yellow 
iris  flowers  with  their  swordlike  leaves  grew,  smoked 
as  if  the  moisture  of  the  stables  and  barns  were 
coming  through  the  straw. 

The  girl  went  to  the  shed  where  the  carts  and 
traps  were  kept.  Close  to  it,  in  a  ditch,  there  was  a 
large  patch  of  violets,  whose  scent  was  perceptible 
all  round,  while  beyond  it,  the  open  country  could 
be  seen  where  crops  were  growing,  with  clumps  of 
trees  in  the  distance,  and  groups  of  labourers  here 
and  there,  who  looked  as  small  as  dolls,  and  white 
horses  like  toys,  which  were  pulling  a  child's  cart, 
driven  by  a  man  as  tall  as  one's  finger. 

She  took  up  a  bundle  of  straw,  threw  it  into 
the  ditch  and  sat  down  upon  it;  then,  not  feeling 
comfortable,  she  undid  it,  spread  it  out  and  lay 
down  upon  it  at  full  length,  on  her  back,  with  both 
arms  under  her  head,  and  her  legs  stretched  out. 

Gradually  her  eyes  closed,  and  she  was  falling 
into  a  state  of  delightful  languor.    She  was,  in  fact, 


STORY    OF    A    FARM    GIRL 

almost  asleep,  when  she  felt  two  hands  on  her  bosom, 
and  then  she  sprang  up  at  a  bound.  It  was  Jacques, 
one  of  the  farm  labourers,  a  tall  powerful  fellow  from 
Picardy,  who  had  been  making  love  to  her  for  a 
long  time.  He  had  been  looking  after  the  sheep, 
and  seeing  her  lying  down  in  the  shade,  he  had  come 
stealthily,  holding  his  breath,  with  ghstening  eyes, 
and  bits  of  straw  in  his  hair. 

He  tried  to  kiss  her,  but  she  gave  him  a  smack  in 
the  face,  for  she  was  as  strong  as  he,  and  he  was 
crafty  enough  to  beg  her  pardon;  so  they  sat  down 
side  by  side  and  talked  amicably.  They  spoke 
about  the  weather,  which  was  favourable  for  the 
harvest,  of  the  season,  which  had  begun  well,  of 
their  master,  who  was  a  decent  man,  then  of  their 
neighbours,  of  all  the  people  in  the  country  round, 
of  themselves,  of  their  village,  of  their  youthful  days, 
of  their  recollections,  of  their  relations,  whom  they 
would  not  see  for  a  long  time,  perhaps  never  again. 
She  grew  sad  as  she  thought  of  it,  while  he,  with  one 
fixed  idea  in  his  head,  rubbed  against  her  with  a 
kind  of  a  shiver,  overcome  by  desire. 

"I  have  not  seen  my  mother  for  a  long  time," 
she  said.  "It  is  very  hard  to  be  separated  like 
that."  And  her  gaze  was  lost  in  the  distance,  to- 
wards the  village  in  the  North,  which  she  had  left. 

Suddenly,  however,  he  seized  her  by  the  neck 
and  kissed  her  again;  but  she  struck  him  so  vio- 
lently in  the  face  with  her  clenched  fist,  that  his 
nose  began  to  bleed,  and  he  got  up  and  laid  his 
head  against  the  trunk  of  a  tree.  When  she  saw 
that,  she  was  sorry,  and  going  up  to  him,  she  said: 
"Have  I  hurt  you?"     He,  however,  only  laughed. 

C  1023 


STORY    OF    A    FARM    GIRL 

"No,  it  was  a  mere  nothing;  "  only,  she  had  hit  him 
right  in  the  middle  of  the  nose.  "What  a  devil!'* 
he  said,  and  he  looked  at  her  with  admiration,  for 
she  had  inspired  him  with  a  feeling  of  respect  and 
of  a  very  different  kind  of  admiration,  which  was 
the  beginning  of  real  love  for  that  tall,  strong 
wench. 

When  the  bleeding  had  stopped,  he  proposed  a 
walk,  as  he  was  afraid  of  his  neighbour's  heavy  hand, 
if  they  remained  side  by  side  like  that  much  longer; 
but  she  took  his  arm  of  her  own  accord,  in  the 
avenue,  as  if  they  had  been  out  for  an  evening 
walk,  and  said:  "It  is  not  nice  of  you  to  despise 
me  hke  that,  Jacques."  He  protested,  however. 
No,  he  did  not  despise  her.  He  was  in  love  with 
her,  that  was  all.  "So  you  really  want  to  marry 
me?"  she  asked. 

He  hesitated,  and  then  looked  at  her  sideways, 
while  she  looked  straight  ahead  of  her.  She  had 
fat,  red  cheeks,  a  full,  protuberant  bust  under  her 
loose  cotton  blouse,  thick,  red  lips,  and  her  bosom, 
which  was  almost  bare,  was  covered  with  small 
beads  of  perspiration.  He  felt  a  fresh  access  of 
desire,  and  putting  his  lips  to  her  ear,  he  murmured: 
"Yes,  of  course  I  do." 

Then  she  threw  her  arms  round  his  neck,  and 
kissed  him  for  such  a  long  time  that  they  both  of 
them  lost  their  breath.  From  that  moment  the 
eternal  story  of  love  began  between  them.  They 
played  with  one  another  in  corners;  they  met  in 
the  moonlight  under  a  haystack,  and  gave  each 
other  bruises  on  the  legs  with  their  heavy  nailed 
boots  underneath  the  table.     By  degrees,  however, 

C  103:1 


STORY    OF     A     FARM     GIRL 

Jacques  seemed  to  grow  tired  of  her;  he  avoided 
her;  scarcely  spoke  to  her,  and  did  not  try  any 
longer  to  meet  her  alone,  which  made  her  sad  and 
anxious;  and  soon  she  found  that  she  was  pregnant. 

At  first,  she  was  in  a  state  of  consternation,  but 
then  she  got  angry,  and  her  rage  increased  every 
day,  because  she  could  not  meet  him,  as  he  avoided 
her  most  carefully.  At  last,  one  night,  when  every- 
one in  the  farmhouse  was  asleep,  she  went  out  noise- 
lessly in  her  petticoat,  with  bare  feet,  crossed  the 
the  yard  and  opened  the  door  of  the  stable,  where 
Jacques  was  lying  in  a  large  box  of  straw,  over 
his  horses.  He  pretended  to  snore  when  he  heard 
her  coming,  but  she  knelt  down  by  his  side  and 
shook  him  until  he  sat  up. 

"What  do  you  want?"  he  then  asked  her.  And 
she,  with  clenched  teeth,  and  trembhng  with  anger, 
rephed:  "I  want  ...  I  want  you  to  marry  me, 
as  you  promised."  But  he  only  laughed,  and  re- 
phed: "Oh!  If  a  man  were  to  marry  all  the  girls 
with  whom  he  has  made  a  shp,  he  would  have  more 
than  enough  to  do." 

Then  she  seized  him  by  the  throat,  threw  him 
on  to  his  back,  so  that  he  could  not  disengage  him- 
self from  her,  and  half  strangling  him,  she  shouted 
into  his  face:  "I  am  in  the  family  way!  Do  you 
hear?     I  am  in  the  family  way?" 

He  gasped  for  breath,  as  he  was  nearly  choked, 
and  so  they  remained,  both  of  them,  motionless 
and  without  speaking,  in  the  dark  silence,  which 
was  only  broken  by  the  noise  that  a  horse  made 
as  he  pulled  the  hay  out  of  the  manger,  and  then 
slowly  chewed  it. 

C  1043 


STORY    OF     A     FARM     GIRL 

When  Jacques  found  that  she  was  the  stronger, 
he  stammered  out:  "Very  well,  I  will  marry  you, 
as  that  is  the  case,"  But  she  did  not  beheve  his 
promises.  "It  must  be  at  once,"  she  said.  "You 
must  have  the  banns  put  up."  "At  once,"  he  re- 
phed.  "Swear  before  God  that  you  will."  He 
hesitated  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  said:  "I 
swear  it,  by  God." 

Then  she  released  her  grasp,  and  went  away, 
without  another  word. 

She  had  no  chance  of  speaking  to  him  for  several 
days,  and  as  the  stable  was  now  always  locked  at 
night,  she  was  afraid  to  make  any  noise,  for  fear 
of  creating  a  scandal.  One  morning,  however,  she 
saw  another  man  come  in  at  dinner-time,  and  so 
she  said:  "Has  Jacques  left?"  "Yes,"  the  man  re- 
plied;   "  I  have  taken  his  place." 

This  made  her  tremble  so  violently  that  she 
could  not  unhook  the  pot;  and  later  when  they 
were  all  at  work,  she  went  up  into  her  room  and 
cried,  burying  her  head  in  her  bolster,  so  that  she 
might  not  be  heard.  During  the  day,  however, 
she  tried  to  obtain  some  information  without  ex- 
citing any  suspicions,  but  she  was  so  overwhelmed 
by  the  thoughts  of  her  misfortune,  that  she  fancied 
that  all  the  people  whom  she  asked,  laughed  ma- 
liciously. All  she  learned,  however,  was,  that  he 
had  left  the  neighbourhood  altogether. 


C  1053 


STORY  OF  A  FARM  GIRL 


PART  II 

Then  a  life  of  constant  misery  began  for  her. 
She  worked  mechanically,  without  thinking  of  what 
she  was  doing,  with  one  fixed  idea  in  her  head: 
"Suppose  people  were  to  know." 

This  continual  feeling  made  her  so  incapable  of 
reasoning,  that  she  did  not  even  try  to  think  of 
any  means  of  avoiding  the  disgrace  that  she  knew 
must  ensue,  which  was  irreparable,  and  drawing 
nearer  every  day,  and  which  was  as  sure  as  death 
itself.  She  got  up  every  morning  long  before  the 
others,  and  persistently  tried  to  look  at  her  figure 
in  a  piece  of  broken  looking-glass  at  which  she  did 
her  hair,  as  she  was  very  anxious  to  know  whether 
anybody  would  notice  a  change  in  her,  and  during 
the  day  she  stopped  working  every  few  minutes  to 
look  at  herself  from  top  to  toe,  to  see  whether  the 
size  of  her  stomach  did  not  make  her  apron  look 
too  short. 

The  months  went  on,  and  she  scarcely  spoke  now, 
and  when  she  was  asked  a  question,  she  did  not  ap- 
pear to  understand,  but  she  had  a  frightened  look, 
with  haggard  eyes  and  trembhng  hands,  which  made 
her  master  say  to  her  occasionly:  "My  poor  girl, 
how  stupid  you  have  grown  lately." 

In  church,  she  hid  behind  a  pillar,  and  no  longer 
ventured  to  go  to  confession,  as  she  feared  to  face 
the  priest,  to  whom  she  attributed  superhuman 
powers,  which   enabled   him   to  read  people's  con- 


STORY    OF     A     FARM     GIRL 

sciences;  and  at  meal  times  the  looks  of  her  fellow 
servants  almost  made  her  faint  with  mental  agony, 
and  she  was  always  fancying  that  she  had  been 
found  out  by  the  cowherd,  a  precocious  and  cun- 
ning Httle  lad,  whose  bright  eyes  seemed  always  to 
be  watching  her. 

One  morning  the  postman  brought  her  a  letter, 
and  as  she  had  never  received  one  in  her  hfe  before, 
she  was  so  upset  by  it  that  she  was  obhged  to  sit 
down.  Perhaps  it  was  from  him?  But  as  she  could 
not  read,  she  sat  anxious  and  trembling,  with  that 
piece  of  paper  covered  with  ink  in  her  hand;  after 
a  time,  however,  she  put  it  into  her  pocket,  as 
she  did  not  venture  to  confide  her  secret  to  any- 
one. She  often  stopped  in  her  work  to  look  at 
those  hnes  written  at  regular  intervals,  and  which 
terminated  in  a  signature,  imagining  vaguely  that 
she  vv^ould  suddenly  discover  their  meaning,  until 
at  last,  as  she  felt  half  mad  with  impatience  and 
anxiety,  she  went  to  the  schoolmaster,  who  told 
her  to  sit  down,  and  read  to  her,  as  follows: 

"My  Dear  Daughter:  This  is  to  tell  you  that 
I  am  very  ill.  Our  neighbour.  Monsieur  Dentu,  has 
written  this  letter  to  ask  you  to  come,  if  you  can. 
For  your  affectionate  mother, 

"  Cesaire  Dentu, 

Deputy  Mayor/* 

She  did  not  say  a  word,  and  went  away,  but  as 
soon  as  she  was  alone,  her  legs  gave  way,  and  she  fell 
down  by  the  roadside,  and  remained  there  till  night. 

When   she  got   back,    she   told   the   farmer   her 


STORY    OF    A     FARM     GIRL 

trouble,  who  allowed  her  to  go  home  for  as  long  as 
she  wanted,  and  promised  to  have  her  work  done 
by  a  charwoman,  and  to  take  her  back  when  she 
returned. 

Her  mother  was  dying  and  breathed  her  last  the 
the  day  she  arrived,  and  the  next  day  Rose  gave 
birth  to  a  seven  months'  child,  a  miserable  Httle 
skeleton,  thin  enough  to  make  anybody  shudder, 
and  which  seemed  to  be  suffering  continually,  to 
judge  by  the  painful  manner  in  which  it  moved  its 
poor  Httle  hands  about,  which  were  as  thin  as  a 
crab's  legs;  but  it  lived,  for  all  that.  She  said  that 
she  was  married,  but  that  she  could  not  saddle  her- 
self with  the  child,  so  she  left  it  with  some  neighbours, 
who  promised  to  take  care  of  it,  and  she  went  back 
to  the  farm. 

But  then,  in  her  heart,  which  had  been  wounded 
so  long,  there  arose  something  like  brightness,  an 
unknown  love  for  that  frail  little  creature  which  she 
had  left  behind  her,  but  there  was  fresh  suffering  in 
that  very  love,  suffering  which  she  felt  every  hour 
and  every  minute,  because  she  was  parted  from  her 
child.  What  pained  her  most,  however,  was  a  mad 
longing  to  kiss  it,  to  press  it  in  her  arms,  to  feel 
the  warmth  of  its  little  body  against  her  skin.  She 
could  not  sleep  at  night;  she  thought  of  it  the 
whole  day  long,  and  in  the  evening,  when  her  work 
was  done,  she  used  to  sit  in  front  of  the  fire  and 
look  at  it  intently,  like  people  do  whose  thoughts 
are  far  away. 

They  began  to  talk  about  her,  and  to  tease  her 
about  the  lover  she  must  have.  They  asked  her 
whether  he  was  tall,  handsome  and  rich.    When  was 


STORY    OF     A     FARM     GIRL 

the  wedding  to  be,  and  the  christening?  And  often 
she  ran  away,  to  cry  by  herself,  for  these  questions 
seemed  to  hurt  her,  hke  the  prick  of  a  pin,  and  in 
order  to  forget  these  irritations,  she  began  to  work 
still  more  energetically,  and  still  thinking  of  her 
child,  she  sought  for  the  means  of  saving  up  money 
for  it,  and  determined  to  work  so  that  her  master 
would  be  obliged  to  raise  her  wages. 

Then,  by  degrees,  she  almost  monopoHzed  the 
work,  and  persuaded  him  to  get  rid  of  one  servant 
girl,  who  had  become  useless  since  she  had  taken 
to  working  like  two;  she  saved  money  on  the  bread, 
oil  and  candles,  on  the  corn,  which  they  gave  to 
the  fowls  too  extravagantly,  and  on  the  fodder  for 
the  horses  and  cattle,  which  was  rather  wasted. 
She  was  as  miserly  about  her  master's  money,  as 
if  it  had  been  her  own,  and  by  dint  of  making  good 
bargains,  of  getting  high  prices  for  all  their  prod- 
uce, and  by  baffling  the  peasants'  tricks  when  they 
offered  anything  for  sale,  he  at  last  entrusted  her 
with  buying  and  selhng  everything,  with  the  di- 
rection of  all  the  labourers,  and  with  the  quantity 
of  provisions  necessary  for  the  household,  so  that 
in  a  short  time  she  became  indispensable  to  him. 
She  kept  such  a  strict  eye  on  everything  about  her, 
that  under  her  direction  the  farm  prospered  won- 
derfully, and  for  five  miles  round  people  talked  of 
"Master  Vallin's  servant,"  and  the  farmer  him- 
self said  everywhere:  "That  girl  is  worth  more  than 
her  weight  in  gold." 

But  time  passed  by,  and  her  wages  remained  the 
same.  Her  hard  work  was  accepted  as  something 
that  was  due  from  every  good  servant,  and  as  a 

C  1093 


STORY     OF    A     FARM     GIRL 

mere  token  of  her  good-will;  and  she  began  to 
think  rather  bitterly,  that  if  the  farmer  could  put 
fifty  or  a  hundred  crowns  extra  into  the  bank  every 
month,  thanks  to  her,  she  was  still  only  earning 
her  two  hundred  and  forty  francs  a  year,  neither 
more  nor  less,  and  so  she  made  up  her  mind  to  ask 
for  an  increase  of  wages.  She  went  to  see  the  mas- 
ter three  times  about  it,  but  when  she  saw  him,  she 
spoke  about  something  else.  She  felt  a  kind  of 
modesty  in  asking  for  money,  as  if  it  were  some- 
thing disgraceful;  but  at  last,  one  day,  when  the 
farmer  was  having  breakfast  by  himself  in  the 
kitchen,  she  said  to  him,  with  some  embarrassment, 
that  she  wished  to  speak  to  him  particularly.  He 
raised  his  head  in  surprise,  with  both  his  hands  on 
the  table,  holding  his  knife,  with  its  point  in  the 
air,  in  one,  and  a  piece  of  bread  in  the  other,  and 
he  looked  fixedly  at  the  girl,  who  felt  uncomfortable 
under  his  gaze,  but  asked  for  a  week's  holiday,  so 
that  she  might  get  away,  as  she  was  not  very  well. 
He  acceded  to  her  request  immediately,  and  then 
added,  in  some  embarrassment  himself: 

"When  you  come  back,  I  shall  have  something 
to  say  to  you,  myself." 


PART  HI 

The  child  was  nearly  eight  months  old,  and  she 
did  not  know  it  again.  It  had  grown  rosy  and 
chubby  all  over  like  a  httle  bundle  of  hving  fat. 
She  threw  herself  on  it  as  if  it  had  been  some  prey, 

Clio: 


STORY    OF    A    FARM    GIRL 

and  kissed  it  so  violently  that  it  began  to  scream 
with  terror,  and  then  she  began  to  cry  herself,  be- 
cause it  did  not  know  her,  and  stretched  out  its 
arms  to  its  nurse,  as  soon  as  it  saw  her.  But  the 
next  day,  it  began  to  get  used  to  her,  and  laughed 
when  it  saw  her,  and  she  took  it  into  the  fields  and 
and  ran  about  excitedly  with  it,  and  sat  down  under 
the  shade  of  the  trees,  and  then,  for  the  first  time 
in  her  hfe,  she  opened  her  heart  to  somebody,  and 
told  him  her  troubles,  how  hard  her  work  was,  her 
anxieties  and  her  hopes,  and  she  quite  tired  the  child 
with  the  violence  of  her  caresses. 

She  took  the  greatest  pleasure  in  handling  it, 
in  washing  and  dressing  it,  for  it  seemed  to  her  that 
all  this  was  the  confirmation  of  her  maternity,  and 
she  would  look  at  it,  almost  feeling  surprised  that 
it  was  hers,  and  she  used  to  say  to  herself  in  a  low 
voice,  as  she  danced  it  in  her  arms:  "It  is  my  baby, 
it  is  my  baby." 

She  cried  all  the  way  home  as  she  returned  to  the 
farm,  and  had  scarcely  got  in,  before  her  master 
called  her  into  his  room,  and  she  went,  feeling 
astonished  and  nervous,  without  knowing  why. 

"Sit  down  there,"  he  said.  She  sat  down,  and 
for  some  moments  they  remained  side  by  side,  in 
some  embarrassment,  with  their  arms  hanging  at 
their  sides,  as  if  they  did  not  know  what  to  do  with 
them,  and  looking  each  other  in  the  face,  after 
the  manner  of  peasants. 

The  farmer,  a  stout,  jovial,  obstinate  man  of 
forty-five,  who  had  lost  two  wives,  evidently  felt 
embarrassed,  which  was  very  unusual  with  him, 
but  at  last  he  made  up  his  mind,  and  began  to  speak 

C1113 


STORY    OF    A    FARM    GIRL 

vaguely,  hesitating  a  little,  and  looking  out  of  the 
window  as  he  talked. 

"Rose,"  he  said,  "have  you  never  thought  of 
settling  down?"  She  grew  as  pale  as  death,  and, 
seeing  that  she  gave  him  no  answer,  he  went  on: 
"You  are  a  good,  steady,  active  and  economical  girl, 
and  a  wife  hke  you  would  make  a  man's  fortune." 

She  did  not  move,  but  looked  frightened;  she 
did  not  even  try  to  comprehend  his  meaning,  for 
her  thoughts  were  in  a  whirl,  as  if  at  the  approach 
of  some  great  danger;  so  after  waiting  for  a  few 
seconds,  he  went  on:  "You  see,  a  farm  without  a 
mistress  can  never  succeed,  even  with  such  a  servant 
as  you."  Then  he  stopped,  for  he  did  not  know 
what  else  to  say,  and  Rose  looked  at  him  with  the 
air  of  a  person  who  thinks  that  he  is  face  to  face 
with  a  murderer,  and  ready  to  flee  at  the  shghtest 
movement  he  may  make;  but  after  waiting  for  about 
five  minutes,  he  asked  her:  "Well,  will  it  suit  you?" 
"Will  what  suit  me,  master?"  And  he  said,  quickly: 
"Why,  to  marry  me,  by  Jove!" 

She  jumped  up,  but  fell  back  on  to  her  chair  as 
if  she  had  been  struck,  and  there  she  remained 
motionless,  like  a  person  who  is  overwhelmed  by 
some  great  misfortune,  but  at  last  the  farmer  grew 
impatient,  and  said:  "Come,  what  more  do  you 
want?"  She  looked  at  him  almost  in  terror;  then 
suddenly  the  tears  came  into  her  eyes,  and  she  said 
twice,  in  a  choking  voice:  "I  cannot,  I  cannot!" 
"Why  not?"  he  asked.  "Come,  don't  be  silly; 
I  will  give  you  until  to-morrow  to  think  it  over." 

And  he  hurried  out  of  the  room,  very  glad  to 
have  got  the  matter  over,  for  it  had  troubled  him 

1:112: 


STORY    OF    A     FARM     GIRL 

a  good  deal.  He  had  no  doubt  that  she  would  the 
next  morning  accept  a  proposal  which  she  could 
never  have  expected,  and  which  would  be  a  capital 
bargain  for  him,  as  he  thus  bound  a  woman  to  him- 
self who  would  certainly  bring  him  more  than  if 
she  had  the  best  dowry  in  the  district. 

Neither  could  there  be  any  scruples  about  an 
unequal  match  between  them,  for  in  the  country 
everyone  is  very  nearly  equal;  the  farmer  works 
just  like  his  labourers  do,  who  frequently  become 
masters  in  their  turn,  and  the  female  servants 
constantly  become  the  mistresses  of  the  establish- 
ments, without  its  making  any  change  in  their 
lives  or  habits. 

Rose  did  not  go  to  bed  that  night.  She  threw 
herself,  dressed  as  she  was,  on  her  bed,  and  she  had 
not  even  the  strength  to  cry  left  in  her,  she  was  so 
thoroughly  overcome.  She  remained  quite  inert, 
scarcely  knowing  that  she  had  a  body,  and  with 
her  mind  in  such  a  state  as  if  it  had  been  taken 
to  pieces  with  one  of  those  instruments  which  are 
used  in  re-making  a  mattress;  only  at  odd  moments 
could  she  collect  fragments  of  her  thoughts,  and 
then  she  was  frightened  at  the  idea  of  what  might 
happen.  Her  terror  increased,  and  every  time  the 
great  kitchen  clock  struck  the  hour  she  broke  into 
a  perspiration  of  fear.  She  was  losing  control  of 
herself,  and  had  a  succession  of  nightmares;  her 
candle  went  out,  and  then  she  began  to  imagine 
that  some  one  had  thrown  a  spell  over  her,  hke 
country  people  so  often  fancy,  and  she  felt  a  mad 
inchnation  to  run  away,  to  escape  and  to  flee  before 
her  misfortune,  hke  a  ship  scuds  before  the  wind. 


STORY    OF    A    FARM    GIRL 

An  owl  hooted,  and  she  shivered,  sat  up,  put  her 
hands  to  her  face,  into  her  hair,  and  all  over  her 
body,  and  then  she  went  downstairs,  as  if  she  were 
walking  in  her  sleep.  When  she  got  into  the  yard, 
she  stooped  down,  so  as  not  to  be  seen  by  any 
prowling  ruffian,  for  the  moon,  which  was  setting, 
shed  a  bright  light  over  the  fields.  Instead  of 
opening  the  gate,  she  scrambled  over  the  bank, 
and  as  soon  as  she  was  outside,  she  started  off. 
She  went  on  straight  before  her,  with  a  quick,  elas- 
tic trot,  and  from  time  to  time,  she  unconsciously 
uttered  a  piercing  cry.  Her  long  shadow  accom- 
panied her,  and  now  and  then  some  night  bird 
flew  over  her  head,  while  the  dogs  in  the  farmyards 
barked,  as  they  heard  her  pass;  one  even  jumped 
over  the  ditch  and  followed  her  and  tried  to  bite  her, 
but  she  turned  round  at  it,  and  gave  such  a  terrible 
yell,  that  the  frightened  animal  ran  back  and  cow- 
ered in  silence  in  its  kennel. 

Sometimes  a  family  of  young  hares  was  gam- 
bolling in  a  field,  but  when  the  frantic  fugitive 
approached,  like  a  delirious  Diana,  the  timid 
creatures  scampered  away,  the  mother  and  her 
little  ones  disappearing  into  a  burrow,  while  the 
father  ran  at  full  tilt,  his  leaping  shadow,  with 
long  ears  erect,  standing  out  against  the  setting 
moon,  which  was  now  sinking  down  at  the  other  end 
of  the  world,  and  casting  an  oblique  light  over  the 
fields,  like  a  huge  lantern  standing  on  the  ground 
at  the  horizon. 

The  stars  grew  dim,  and  the  birds  began  to 
twitter;  day  was  breaking.  The  girl  was  worn  out 
and  panting,  and  when  the  sun  rose  in  the  purple 

C  "43 


STORY    OF     A     FARM     GIRL 

sky,  she  stopped,  for  her  swollen  feet  refused  to  go 
any  farther;  but  she  saw  a  pond  in  the  distance,  a 
large  pond  whose  stagnant  water  looked  hke  blood 
under  the  reflection  of  this  new  day,  and  she  hmped 
on  with  short  steps  and  with  her  hand  on  her  heart, 
in  order  to  dip  both  her  legs  in  it.  She  sat  down  on 
a  tuft  of  grass,  took  off  her  heavy  shoes,  which  were 
full  of  dust,  pulled  off"  her  stockings  and  plunged 
her  legs  into  the  still  water,  from  which  bubbles 
were  rising  here  and  there. 

A  feehng  of  dehcious  coolness  pervaded  her  from 
head  to  foot,  and  suddenly,  while  she  was  looking 
fixedly  at  the  deep  pool,  she  was  seized  with  giddi- 
ness, and  with  a  mad  longing  to  throw  herself  into 
it.  All  her  sufi'erings  would  be  over  in  there;  over 
for  ever.  She  no  longer  thought  of  her  child;  she 
only  wanted  peace,  complete  rest,  and  to  sleep  for 
ever,  and  she  got  up  with  raised  arms  and  took  two 
steps  forward.  She  was  in  the  water  up  to  her 
thighs,  and  she  was  just  about  to  throw  herself  in, 
when  sharp,  pricking  pains  in  her  ankles  made  her 
jump  back,  and  she  uttered  a  cry  of  despair,  for, 
from  her  knees  to  the  tips  of  her  feet,  long,  black 
leeches  were  sucking  in  her  Hfe  blood,  and  were 
swelhng,  as  they  adhered  to  her  flesh.  She  did  not 
dare  to  touch  them,  and  screamed  with  horror,  so 
that  her  cries  of  despair  attracted  a  peasant,  who 
was  driving  along  at  some  distance,  to  the  spot. 
He  pufled  off"  the  leeches  one  by  one,  apphed  herbs 
to  the  wounds,  and  drove  the  girl  to  her  master's 
farm,  in  his  gig. 

She  was  in  bed  for  a  fortnight,  and  as  she  was 
sitting  outside  the  door  on  the  first  morning  that 

1:1153 


STORY    OF     A     FARM     GIRL 

she  got  up,  the  farmer  suddenly  came  and  planted 
himself  before  her.  "Well,"  he  said,  "I  suppose 
the  affair  is  settled,  isn't  it?"  She  did  not  reply  at 
first,  and  then,  as  he  remained  standing  and  looking 
at  her  intently  with  his  piercing  eyes,  she  said  with 
difficulty:  "No,  master,  I  cannot."  But  he  im- 
mediately flew  into  a  rage. 

"You  cannot,  girl;  you  cannot?  I  should  just 
Hke  to  know  the  reason  why?"  She  began  to  cry, 
and  repeated:  "I  cannot."  He  looked  at  her  and 
then  exclaimed,  angrily:  "Then,  I  suppose  you 
have  a  lover?"  "Perhaps  that  is  it,"  she  rephed, 
trembhng  with  shame. 

The  man  got  as  red  as  a  poppy,  and  stammered 
out  in  a  rage:  "Ah!  So  you  confess  it,  you  slut! 
And  pray,  who  is  the  fellow?  Some  penniless, 
half-starved  ragamuffin,  without  a  roof  to  his 
head,  I  suppose?  Who  is  it,  I  say?"  And  as  she 
gave  him  no  answer,  he  continued:  "Ah!  So  you 
will  not  tell  me.  .  .  .  Then  I  will  tell  you;  it  is 
Jean  Baudu?"  "No,  not  he,"  she  exclaimed 
"Then  it  is  Pierre  Martin?"     "Oh,   no,  master." 

And  he  angrily  mentioned  all  the  young  feflows 
in  the  neighbourhood,  while  she  denied  that  he  had 
hit  upon  the  right  one,  and  every  moment  wiped 
her  eyes  with  the  corner  of  her  big  blue  apron. 
But  he  still  tried  to  find  it  out,  with  his  brutish 
obstinacy,  and,  as  it  were,  scratched  her  heart  to 
discover  her  secret,  just  hke  a  terrier  scratches  a 
hole,  to  try  and  get  at  the  animal  which  he  scents 
in  it.  Suddenly,  however,  the  man  shouted:  "By 
George!  It  is  Jacques,  the  man  who  was  here  last 
year.     They  used  to  say  that  you  were  always  talk- 

i:ii63 


STORY    OF    A    FARM    GIRL 

ing  together,  and  that  you  thought  about  getting 
married." 

Rose  was  choking,  and  she  grew  scarlet,  while 
her  tears  suddenly  stopped,  and  dried  up  on  her 
cheeks,  hke  drops  of  water  on  hot  iron,  and  she  ex- 
claimed: "No,  it  is  not  he,  it  is  not  he!"  "Is  that 
really  a  fact?"  the  cunning  peasant,  who  partly 
guessed  the  truth,  asked;  and  she  replied,  hastily: 
"I  will  swear  it;  I  will  swear  it  to  you  .  .  ."  She 
tried  to  think  of  something  by  which  to  swear,  as 
she  did  not  venture  to  invoke  sacred  things,  but  he 
interrupted  her:  "At  any  rate,  he  used  to  follow 
you  into  every  corner,  and  devoured  you  with  his 
eyes  at  meal  times.  Did  you  ever  give  him  your 
promise,  eh?" 

This  time  she  looked  her  master  straight  in  the 
face.  "No,  never,  never;  I  will  solemnly  swear 
to  you,  that  if  he  were  to  come  to-day  and  ask  me 
to  marry  him,  I  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  him." 
She  spoke  with  such  an  air  of  sincerity  that  the 
farmer  hesitated,  and  then  he  continued,  as  if  speak- 
ing to  himself:  "What,  then?  You  have  not  had 
a  misfortune,  as  they  call  it,  or  it  would  have  been 
known,  and  as  it  has  no  consequences,  no  girl  would 
refuse  her  master  on  that  account.  There  must  be 
something  at  the  bottom  of  it,  however." 

She  could  say  nothing;  she  had  not  the  strength 
to  speak,  and  he  asked  her  again:  "You  will  not?" 
"I  cannot,  master,"  she  said,  with  a  sigh,  and  he 
turned  on  his  heel. 

She  thought  she  had  got  rid  of  him  altogether, 
and  spent  the  rest  of  the  day  almost  tranquilly, 
but  as  worn  out   as  if  she  had  been  turning  the 


STORY    OF    A     FARM     GIRL 

threshing  machine  all  day,  instead  of  the  old  white 
horse,  and  she  went  to  bed  as  soon  as  she  could, 
and  fell  asleep  immediately.  In  the  middle  of  the 
night,  however,  two  hands  touching  the  bed,  woke 
her.  She  trembled  with  fear,  but  she  immediately 
recognized  the  farmer's  voice,  when  he  said  to  her: 
"Don't  be  frightened.  Rose;  I  have  come  to  speak 
to  you."  She  was  surprised  at  first,  but  when  he 
tried  to  get  into  the  bed,  she  understood  what  he 
wanted,  and  began  to  tremble  violently,  as  she 
felt  quite  alone  in  the  darkness,  still  heavy  from 
sleep,  and  quite  naked  in  the  bed,  beside  this  man 
who  desired  her.  She  certainly  did  not  consent,  but 
she  resisted  weakly,  herself  struggling  against  that 
instinct  which  is  always  strong  in  simple  natures, 
and  very  imperfectly  protected,  by  the  undecided 
will  of  inert  and  feeble  creatures.  She  turned  her 
head  now  to  the  wall,  and  now  towards  the  room, 
in  order  to  avoid  the  attentions  which  the  farmer 
tried  to  press  on  her,  and  her  body  writhed  a  little 
under  the  coverlet,  as  she  was  weakened  by  the 
fatigue  of  the  struggle,  while  he  became  brutal,  in- 
toxicated by  desire.  With  a  sudden  movement  he 
pulled  off  the  bedclothes;  then  she  saw  that  resist- 
ance was  useless.  With  an  ostrich-like  sense  of 
modesty  she  hid  her  face  in  her  hands,  and  ceased 
to  struggle. 

They  lived  together  as  man  and  wife,  and  one 
morning  he  said  to  her:  "I  have  put  up  our  banns, 
and  we  will  get  married  next  month." 

She  did  not  reply,  for  what  could  she  say?  She 
did  not  resist,  for  what  could  she  do? 


STORY    OF    A    FARM    GIRL 


PART    IV 

She  married  him.  She  felt  as  if  she  were  in  a  pit 
with  inaccessible  edges,  from  which  she  could  never 
get  out,  and  all  kinds  of  misfortunes  remained 
hanging  over  her  head,  hke  huge  rocks,  which 
would  fall  on  the  first  occasion.  Her  husband  gave 
her  the  impression  of  a  man  whom  she  had  stolen, 
and  who  would  find  it  out  some  day  or  other.  And 
then  she  thought  of  her  child,  who  was  the  cause  of 
her  misfortunes,  but  who  was  also  the  cause  of  all 
her  happiness  on  earth,  and  whom  she  went  to  see 
twice  a  year,  though  she  came  back  more  unhappy 
each  time.  But  she  gradually  grew  accustomed  to 
her  life,  her  fears  were  allayed,  her  heart  was  at 
rest,  and  she  lived  with  an  easier  mind,  though 
still  with  some  vague  fear  floating  in  her  mind,  and 
so  years  went  on,  and  the  child  was  six.  She  was 
almost  happy  now,  when  suddenly  the  farmer's 
temper  grew  very  bad. 

For  two  or  three  years  he  seemed  to  have  been 
nursing  some  secret  anxiety,  to  be  troubled  by  some 
care,  some  mental  disturbance,  which  was  gradually 
increasing.  He  remained  at  table  a  long  time  after 
dinner,  with  his  head  in  his  hands,  sad  and  devoured 
by  sorrow.  He  always  spoke  hastily,  sometimes 
even  brutally,  and  it  even  seemed  as  if  he  bore  a 
grudge  against  his  wife,  for  at  times  he  answered 
her  roughly,  almost  angrily. 

One  day,  when  a  neighbour's  boy  came  for  some 

1:119: 


STORY    OF     A     FARM     GIRL 

eggs,  and  she  spoke  very  crossly  to  him,  as  she  was 
very  busy,  her  husband  suddenly  came  in,  and  said 
to  her  in  his  unpleasant  voice:  "If  that  were  your 
own  child  you  would  not  treat  him  so."  She  was 
hurt,  and  did  not  reply,  and  then  she  went  back  into 
the  house,  with  all  her  grief  awakened  afresh,  and 
at  dinner,  the  farmer  neither  spoke  to  her,  nor 
looked  at  her,  and  he  seemed  to  hate  her,  to  despise 
her,  to  know  something  about  the  affair  at  last. 
In  consequence,  she  lost  her  head,  and  did  not 
venture  to  remain  alone  with  him  after  the  meal 
was  over,  but  she  left  the  room  and  hastened  to  the 
church. 

It  was  getting  dusk;  the  narrow  nave  was  in 
total  darkness,  but  she  heard  footsteps  in  the  choir, 
for  the  sacristan  was  preparing  the  tabernacle  lamp 
for  the  night.  That  spot  of  trembling  light,  which 
was  lost  in  the  darkness  of  the  arches,  looked  to 
Rose  like  her  last  hope,  and  with  her  eyes  fixed  on 
it,  she  fell  on  her  knees.  The  chain  rattled  as  the 
little  lamp  swung  up  into  the  air,  and  almost  im- 
mediately the  small  bell  rang  out  the  Angelus 
through  the  increasing  mist.  She  went  up  to  him, 
as  he  was  going  out. 

"Is  Monsieur  le  Cure  at  home?"  she  asked. 
"Of  course  he  is;  this  is  his  dinner-time."  She 
trembled  as  she  rang  the  bell  of  the  priest's  house 
The  priest  was  just  sitting  down  to  dinner,  and  he 
made  her  sit  down  also.  "Yes,  yes,  I  know  all 
about  it;  your  husband  has  mentioned  the  matter 
to  me  that  brings  you  here."  The  poor  woman 
nearly  fainted,  and  the  priest  continued:  "What 
do  you  want,  my  child?"    And  he  hastily  swallowed 


STORY    OF     A     FARM     GIRL 

several  spoonfuls  of  soup,  some  of  which  dropped 
on  to  his  greasy  cassock.  But  Rose  did  not  venture 
to  say  anything  more,  and  she  got  up  to  go,  but  the 
priest  said:    "Courage.  .  .  ." 

And  she  went  out,  and  returned  to  the  farm, 
without  knowing  what  she  was  doing.  The  farmer 
was  waiting  for  her,  as  the  labourers  had  gone  away 
during  her  absence,  and  she  fell  heavily  at  his  feet, 
and  shedding  a  flood  of  tears,  she  said  to  him: 
"What  have  you  got  against  me?" 

He  began  to  shout  and  to  swear:  "What  have 
I  got  against  you?  That  I  have  no  children,  by  God! 
When  a  man  takes  a  wife,  he  does  not  want  to  be 
left  alone  with  her  until  the  end  of  his  days.  That 
is  what  I  have  against  you.  When  a  cow  has  no 
calves,  she  is  not  worth  anything,  and  when  a 
woman  has  no  children,  she  is  also  not  worth  any- 
thing." 

She  began  to  cry,  and  said:  "It  is  not  my  fault! 
It  is  not  my  fault!"  He  grew  rather  more  gentle 
when  he  heard  that,  and  added:  "I  do  not  say 
that  it  is,  but  it  is  very  annoying,  all  the  same." 


PART  V 

From  that  day  forward,  she  had  only  one  thought; 
to  have  a  child,  another  child;  she  confided  her 
wish  to  everybody,  and  in  consequence  of  this,  a 
neighbour  told  her  of  an  infallible  method.  This 
was,  to  make  her  husband  a  glass  of  water  with  a 
pinch  of  ashes  in  it,  every  evening.     The  farmer 

C   121  J 


STORY    OF    A     FARM     GIRL 

consented  to  try  it,  but  without  success;  so  they 
said  to  each  other:  "Perhaps  there  are  some  secret 
ways."  And  they  tried  to  find  out.  They  were 
told  of  a  shepherd  who  hved  ten  miles  off,  and  so 
Vallin  one  day  drove  off  to  consult  him.  The  shep- 
herd gave  him  a  loaf  on  which  he  made  some  marks; 
it  was  kneaded  up  with  herbs,  and  both  of  them 
were  to  eat  a  piece  of  it  before  and  after  their  mu- 
tual caresses;  but  they  ate  the  whole  loaf  without 
obtaining  any  results  from  it. 

Next,  a  schoolmaster  unveiled  mysteries,  and 
processes  of  love  which  were  unknown  in  the 
country,  but  infallible,  so  he  declared;  yet  none  of 
them  had  the  desired  effect.  Then  the  priest  ad- 
vised them  to  make  a  pilgrimage  to  the  shrine  at 
Fecamp.  Rose  went  with  the  crowd  and  pros- 
trated herself  in  the  abbey,  and  mingling  her  prayers 
with  the  coarse  wishes  of  the  peasants  around  her, 
she  prayed  that  she  might  be  fruitful  a  second  time; 
but  it  was  in  vain,  and  then  she  thought  that  she 
was  being  punished  for  her  first  fault,  and  she  was 
seized  by  terrible  grief.  She  was  wasting  away 
with  sorrow;  her  husband  was  also  ageing  prema- 
turely, and  was  wearing  himself  out  in  useless  hopes. 

Then  war  broke  out  between  them;  he  called  her 
names  and  beat  her.  They  quarreled  all  da}^  long, 
and  when  they  were  in  bed  together  at  night  he 
flung  insults  and  obscenities  at  her,  panting  with 
rage,  until  one  night,  not  being  able  to  think  of 
any  means  of  making  her  suffer  more,  he  ordered 
her  to  get  up  and  go  and  stand  out  of  doors  in  the 
rain,  until  daylight.  As  she  did  not  obey  him, 
he  seized  her  by  the  neck,  and  began  to  strike  her 

I  122  3 


STORY    OF     A     FARM     GIRL 

in  the  face  with  his  fists,  but  she  said  nothing,  and 
did  not  move.  In  his  exasperation  he  knelt  on  her 
stomach,  and  with  clenched  teeth,  and  mad  with 
rage,  he  began  to  beat  her.  Then  in  her  despair 
she  rebelled,  and  flinging  him  against  the  wall 
with  a  furious  gesture,  she  sat  up,  and  in  an  al- 
tered voice,  she  hissed:  "I  have  had  a  child,  I 
have  had  one!  I  had  it  by  Jacques;  you  know 
Jacques  well.  He  promised  to  marry  me,  but  he 
left  this  neighborhood  without  keeping  his  word." 

The  man  was  thunderstruck,  and  could  hardly 
speak,  but  at  last  he  stammered  out:  "What  are  you 
saying?  What  are  you  saying?"  Then  she  began 
to  sob,  and  amidst  her  tears  she  said:  "That  is  the 
reason  why  I  did  not  want  to  marry  you.  I  could 
never  tell  you,  for  you  would  have  left  me  without 
any  bread  for  my  child.  You  have  never  had  any 
children,  so  you  cannot  understand,  you  cannot 
understand!" 

He  said  again,  mechanically,  with  increasing  sur- 
prise:   "You  have  a  child?     You  have  a  child?" 

"You  had  me  by  force,  as  I  suppose  you  know? 
I  did  not  want  to  marry  you,"  she  said,  still  sobbing. 

Then  he  got  up,  lit  the  candle,  and  began  to  walk 
up  and  down,  with  his  arms  behind  him.  She  was 
cowering  on  the  bed  and  crying,  and  suddenly  he 
stopped  in  front  of  her,  and  said:  "Then  it  is  my 
fault  that  you  have  no  children?"  She  gave  him 
no  answer,  and  he  began  to  walk  up  and  down 
again,  and  then,  stopping  again,  he  continued: 
"How  old  is  your  child?"  "Just  six,"  she  whis- 
pered. "Why  did  you  not  tell  me  about  it?"  he 
asked.     "How  could  I?"  she  rephed,  with  a  sigh. 

1:1233 


STORY    OF     A     FARM     GIRL 

He  remained  standing,  motionless.  "Come,  get 
up,"  he  said.  She  got  up,  with  some  difficulty, 
and  then,  when  she  was  standing  on  the  floor,  he 
suddenly  began  to  laugh,  with  his  hearty  laugh  of 
his  good  days,  and  seeing  how  surprised  she  was,  he 
added:  "Very  well,  we  will  go  and  fetch  the  child, 
as  you  and  I  can  have  none  together." 

She  was  so  scared  that,  if  she  had  had  the  strength, 
she  would  assuredly  have  run  away,  but  the  farmer 
rubbed  his  hands  and  said:  "I  wanted  to  adopt 
one,  and  now  we  have  found  one.  I  asked  the  priest 
about  an  orphan,  some  time  ago." 

Then,  still  laughing,  he  kissed  his  weeping  and 
agitated  wife  on  both  cheeks,  and  shouted  out,  as 
if  she  could  not  hear  him:  "Come  along,  mother, 
we  will  go  and  see  whether  there  is  any  soup  left; 
I  should  not  mind  a  plateful." 

She  put  on  her  petticoat,  and  they  went  down 
stairs;  and  while  she  was  kneeling  in  front  of  the 
fire-place,  and  hghting  the  fire  under  the  pot,  he 
continued  to  walk  up  and  down  the  kitchen  in  long 
strides,  and  said: 

"Well,  I  am  really  glad  of  this:  I  must  say  I 
am  glad;    I  am  really  very  glad." 


c  124  n 


A    COUNTRY    EXCURSION 

FOR  five  months  they  had  been  talking  of 
going  to  lunch  at  some  country  restaurant 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Paris,  on  Madame 
Dufour's  birthda}^  and  as  they  were  looking  for- 
ward very  impatiently  to  the  outing,  they  had 
risen  very  early  that  morning.  Monsieur  Dufour 
had  borrowed  the  milkman's  cart,  and  drove  him- 
self. It  was  a  very  neat,  two-wheeled  conveyance. 
It  had  a  roof  supported  by  four  iron  posts  to  which 
were  attached  curtains,  which  had  been  raised  so 
that  they  could  see  the  countryside.  The  curtain  at 
the  back,  alone,  fluttered  in  the  breeze  like  a  flag. 
Madame  Dufour,  resplendent  in  a  wonderful,  cherry- 
coloured  silk  dress,  sat  by  the  side  of  her  husband. 
The  old  grandmotherj  and  the  daughter  were  ac- 
commodated with  two  chairs,  and  a  yellow-haired 
youth,  of  whom,  however,  nothing  was  to  be  seen 
except  his  head,  lay  at  the  bottom  of  the  trap. 

After  they  had  followed  the  Avenue  dcs  Champs- 
Elysees,  and  passed  the  fortifications  by  the  Porte 
Maillot,  they  began  to  enjoy  the  scenery. 

When  they  got  to  the  bridge  of  Neuilly,  Mon- 
sieur Dufour  said:  "Here  we  are  in  the  country  at 
last!"  At  that  warning,  his  wife  grew  sentimental 
about  the  beauties  of  nature.  When  they  got  to 
the   crossroads   at    Courbevoie,    they   were   seized 

C  1253 


A     COUNTRY     EXCURSION 

with  admiration  for  the  tremendous  view.  Down 
there  on  the  right  was  the  spire  of  Argenteuil  church, 
above  it  rose  the  hills  of  Sannois  and  the  mill  of 
Orgemont,  while  on  the  left,  the  aqueduct  of  Marly 
stood  out  against  the  clear  morning  sky.  In  the  dis- 
tance they  could  see  the  terrace  of  Saint-Germain,  and 
opposite  to  them,  at  the  end  of  a  low  chain  of  hills, 
the  new  fort  of  Cormeilles.  Far  in  the  background, 
a  very  long  way  off,  beyond  the  plains  and  villages, 
one  could  see  the  sombre  green  of  the  forests. 

The  sun  was  beginning  to  burn  their  faces,  the 
dust  got  into  their  eyes,  and  on  either  side  of  the 
road  there  stretched  an  interminable  tract  of  bare, 
ugly  country,  which  smelled  unpleasant.  You 
would  have  thought  that  it  had  been  ravaged  by 
a  pestilence  which  had  even  attacked  the  buildings, 
for  skeletons  of  dilapidated  and  deserted  houses, 
or  small  cottages  left  in  an  unfinished  state,  as  if 
the  contractors  had  not  been  paid,  reared  their 
four  roofless  walls  on  each  side. 

Here  and  there  tall  factory-chimneys  rose  up 
from  the  barren  soil,  the  only  vegetation  on  that 
putrid  land,  where  the  spring  breezes  wafted  an 
odour  of  petroleum  and  slate,  mingled  with  another 
smell  that  was  even  still  less  agreeable.  At  last, 
however,  they  crossed  the  Seine  a  second  time. 
It  was  delightful  on  the  bridge;  the  river  sparkled 
in  the  sun,  and  they  had  a  feeling  of  quiet  satis- 
faction and  enjoyment  in  drinking  in  purer  air, 
not  impregnated  by  the  black  smoke  of  factories, 
nor  by  the  miasma  from  the  dumping-grounds.  A 
man  whom  they  met  told  them  that  the  name  of 
the  place  was  Bezons;    so  Monsieur  Dufour  pulled 

I  1262 


A    COUNTRY     EXCURSION 

up,  and  read  the  attractive  announcement  outside 
an  eating-house: 

"Restaurant  Pouhn,  fish  soups  and  fried  fish, 
private  rooms,  arbours,  and  swings." 

"Well!  Madame  Dufour,  will  this  suit  you? 
Will  you  make  up  your  mind  at  last?" 

She  read  the  announcement  in  her  turn,  and 
then  looked  at  the  house  for  a  time. 

It  was  a  white  country  inn,  built  by  the  road- 
side, and  through  the  open  door  she  could  see  the 
bright  zinc  of  the  counter,  at  which  two  workmen 
in  their  Sunday  best  were  sitting.  At  last  she 
made  up  her  mind,  and  said: 

"Yes,  this  will  do;   and,  besides,  there  is  a  view." 

So  they  drove  into  a  large  stretch  of  ground 
planted  with  trees,  behind  the  inn,  which  was  only 
separated  from  the  river  by  the  towing-path,  and 
got  out.  The  husband  sprang  out  first,  and  held 
out  his  arms  for  his  wife.  As  the  step  was  very  high, 
Madame  Dufour,  in  order  to  reach  him,  had  to 
show  the  lower  part  of  her  limbs,  whose  former 
slenderness  had  disappeared  in  fat.  Monsieur 
Dufour,  who  was  already  getting  excited  by  the 
country  air,  pinched  her  calf,  and  then,  taking  her 
in  his  arms,  set  her  on  the  ground,  as  if  she  had 
been  some  enormous  bundle.  She  shook  the  dust 
out  of  the  silk  dress,  and  then  looked  round,  to  see 
in  what  sort  of  a  place  she  was. 

She  was  a  stout  woman,  of  about  thirty-six, 
like  a  full-blown  rose,  and  delightful  to  look  at. 
She  could  hardly  breathe,  as  she  was  laced  too 
tightly,  which  forced  the  heaving  mass  of  her  super- 
abundant bosom  up  to  her  double  chin.     Next,  the 

1:1273 


A    COUNTRY     EXCURSION 

girl  put  her  hand  on  to  her  father's  shoulder,  and 
jumped  lightly  down.  The  youth  with  the  yellow 
hair  had  got  down  by  stepping  on  the  wheel,  and 
he  helped  Monsieur  Dufour  to  get  the  grand- 
mother out.  Then  they  unharnessed  the  horse, 
which  they  tied  up  to  a  tree,  and  the  carriage  fell 
back,  with  both  shafts  in  the  air.  The  man  and 
boy  took  off  their  coats,  washed  their  hands  in  a 
pail  of  water,  and  then  joined  the  ladies,  who  had 
already  taken  possession  of  the  swings. 

Mademoiselle  Dufour  was  trying  to  swing  herself 
standing  up,  but  she  could  not  succeed  in  getting 
a  start.  She  was  a  pretty  girl  of  about  eighteen; 
one  of  those  women  who  suddenly  excite  your  de- 
sire when  you  meet  them  in  the  street,  and  who 
leave  you  with  a  vague  feehng  of  uneasiness  and  of 
excited  senses.  She  was  tall,  had  a  small  waist 
and  large  hips,  with  a  dark  skin,  very  large  eyes, 
and  very  black  hair.  Her  dress  clearly  marked  the 
outhnes  of  her  firm,  full  figure,  which  was  accen- 
tuated by  the  motion  of  her  hips  as  she  tried  to 
swing  herself  higher.  Her  arms  were  stretched  over 
her  head  to  hold  the  rope,  so  that  her  bosom  rose 
at  every  movement  she  made.  Her  hat,  which  a 
gust  of  wind  had  blown  off,  was  hanging  behind 
her,  and  as  the  swing  gradually  rose  higher  and 
higher,  she  showed  her  delicate  hmbs  up  to  the 
knees  at  each  time,  and  the  wind  from  the  perfumed 
petticoats,  more  heady  than  the  fumes  of  wine, 
blew  into  the  faces  of  her  father  and  friend,  who 
were  looking  at  her,  smihng. 

Sitting  in  the  other  swing,  Madame  Dufour  kept 
saying  in  a  monotonous  voice : 

1:1283 


A    COUNTRY     EXCURSION 

"Cyprian,  come  and  swing  me;  do  come  and 
swing  me,  Cyprian!" 

At  last  he  complied,  and  turning  up  his  shirt- 
sleeves, as  if  he  intended  to  work  very  hard,  with 
much  difficulty  he  set  his  wife  in  motion.  She 
clutched  the  two  ropes,  and  held  her  legs  out 
straight,  so  as  not  to  touch  the  ground.  She  en- 
joyed feeling  giddy  from  the  motion  of  the  swing, 
and  her  whole  figure  shook  Hke  a  jelly  on  a  dish, 
but  as  she  went  higher  and  higher,  she  grew  too 
giddy  and  got  frightened.  Every  time  she  was  com- 
ing back,  she  uttered  a  shriek,  which  made  all  the 
httle  urchins  come  round,  and  down  below,  beneath 
the  garden  hedge,  she  vaguely  saw  a  row  of  mis- 
chievous heads,  making  faces  as  they  laughed. 

When  a  servant  girl  came  out,  they  ordered 
lunch. 

"Some  fried  fish,  a  stewed  rabbit,  salad,  and  des- 
sert," Madame  Dufour  said,  with  an  important  air. 

"Bring  two  quarts  of  wine,  and  a  bottle  of  claret," 
her  husband  said. 

"We  will  have  lunch  on  the  grass,"  the  girl  added. 

The  grandmother,  who  had  an  afi'ection  for  cats, 
had  been  petting  one  that  belonged  to  the  house, 
and  had  been  bestowing  the  most  afi'ectionate 
words  on  it,  for  the  last  ten  minutes.  The  animal, 
no  doubt  secretly  pleased  by  her  attentions,  kept 
close  to  the  good  woman,  but  just  out  of  reach  of 
her  hand,  and  quietly  walked  round  the  trees, 
against  which  she  rubbed  herself,  with  her  tail  up, 
purring  with  pleasure. 

"Hello!"  exclaimed  the  youth  with  the  yellow 
hair,    who    was    ferreting    about,    "here    are    two 

C  1293 


A    COUNTRY     EXCURSION 

swell  boats!"  They  all  went  to  look  at  them, 
and  saw  two  beautiful  skiffs  in  a  wooden  boat- 
house,  which  were  as  beautifully  finished  as  if  they 
had  been  objects  of  luxury.  They  were  moored 
side  by  side,  like  two  tall,  slender  girls,  in  their 
narrow  shining  length,  and  aroused  in  one  a  wish 
to  drift  in  them  on  warm  summer  mornings  and 
evenings,  along  flower-covered  banks  of  the  river, 
where  the  trees  dip  their  branches  into  the  water, 
where  the  rushes  are  continually  rustling  in  the 
breeze,  and  where  the  swift  kingfishers  dart  about 
hke   flashes   of  blue   lightning. 

The  whole  family  looked  at  them  with  great  re- 
spect. 

"They  are  indeed  two  swell  boats,"  Monsieur 
Dufour  repeated  gravely,  and  he  examined  them 
closely,  commenting  on  them  hke  a  connoisseur. 
He  had  been  in  the  habit  of  rowing  in  his  younger 
days,  he  said,  and  when  he  had  that  in  his  hands  — 
and  he  went  through  the  action  of  pulling  the  oars 
—  he  did  not  care  a  fig  for  anybody.  He  had 
beaten  more  than  one  Englishman  formerly  at  the 
Joinville  regattas,  and  he  made  jokes  on  the  word 
''dames"  used  to  describe  the  two  things  for  holding 
the  oars.  He  grew  quite  excited  at  last,  and  offered 
to  make  a  bet  that  in  a  boat  like  that  he  could  row 
six  miles  an  hour,  without  exerting  himself. 

"Lunch  is  ready,"  said  the  servant,  appearing 
at  the  entrance  to  the  boathouse.  They  all  hurried 
off,  but  two  young  men  were  already  lunching  at 
the  best  place,  which  Madame  Dufour  had  chosen 
in  her  mind  as  her  seat.  No  doubt  they  were  the 
owners  of  the  skiffs,  for  they  were  dressed  in  boat- 

1:1303 


A    COUNTRY     EXCURSION 

ing  costume.  They  were  stretched  out,  almost 
lying  on  chairs,  and  were  sunburned,  and  had  on 
flannel  trousers  and  thin  cotton  jerseys,  with  short 
sleeves,  which  showed  their  bare  arms,  which  were 
as  strong  as  blacksmiths'.  They  were  two  strong 
young  fellows,  who  thought  a  great  deal  of  their 
vigour,  and  who  showed  in  all  their  movements 
that  elasticity  and  grace  of  Hmb  which  can  only 
be  acquired  by  exercise,  and  which  is  so  different 
from  the  awkwardness  with  which  the  same  con- 
tinual work  stamps  the  mechanic. 

They  exchanged  a  rapid  smile  when  they  saw 
the  mother,  and  then  a  look  on  seeing  the  daughter. 

"Let  us  give  up  our  place,"  one  of  them  said; 
"it  will  make  us  acquainted  with  them." 

The  other  got  up  immediately,  and  holding  his 
black  and  red  boating-cap  in  his  hand,  he  pohtely 
offered  the  ladies  the  only  shady  place  in  the  garden. 
With  many  excuses  they  accepted,  and  so  that  it 
might  be  more  rural,  they  sat  on  the  grass,  with- 
out either  tables  or  chairs. 

The  two  young  men  took  their  plates,  knives, 
forks,  etc.,  to  a  table  a  little  way  off,  and  began  to 
eat  again.  Their  bare  arm.s,  which  they  showed  con- 
tinually, rather  embarrassed  the  young  girl,  who 
even  pretended  to  turn  her  head  aside,  and  not  to 
see  them.  But  Madame  Dufour,  who  was  rather 
bolder,  tempted  by  feminine  curiosity,  looked  at 
them  every  moment,  and  no  doubt  compared  them 
with  the  secret  unsightliness  of  her  husband.  She 
had  squatted  herself  on  the  ground  with  her  legs 
tucked  under  her,  after  the  manner  of  tailors,  and 
kept  wriggling  about  continually,  under  the  pretext 


A    COUNTRY    EXCURSION 

that  ants  were  crawling  about  her  somewhere. 
Monsieur  Dufour,  whom  the  presence  and  politeness 
of  the  strangers  had  put  into  rather  a  bad  temper, 
was  trying  to  fmd  a  comfortable  position,  which 
he  did  not,  however,  succeed  in  doing,  while  the 
youth  with  the  yellow  hair  was  eating  as  silently 
as  an  ogre. 

"It  is  lovely  weather.  Monsieur,"  the  stout  lady 
said  to  one  of  the  boating-men.  She  wished  to  be 
friendly,   because   they   had   given   up   their   place. 

"It  is,  indeed,  Madame,"  he  replied;  "do  you 
often  go  into  the  country?" 

"Oh!  Only  once  or  twice  a  year,  to  get  a  little 
fresh  air;    and  you.  Monsieur?" 

"I  come  and  sleep  here  every  night." 

"Oh!     That  must  be  very  nice?" 

"Certainly  it  is,  Madame."  And  he  gave  them 
such  a  poetical  account  of  his  daily  life,  that  in  the 
hearts  of  these  shopkeepers,  who  were  deprived  of 
the  meadows,  and  who  longed  for  country  walks, 
it  roused  that  innate  love  of  nature,  which  they  all 
felt  so  strongly  the  whole  year  round,  behind  the 
counter  in  their  shop. 

The  girl  raised  her  eyes  and  looked  at  the  oars- 
man with  emotion,  and  Monsieur  Dufour  spoke  for 
the  first  time. 

"It  is  indeed  a  happy  life,"  he  said.  And  then 
he  added:    "A  little  more  rabbit,  my  dear?" 

"No,  thank  you,"  she  replied,  and  turning  to  the 
young  men  again,  and  pointing  to  their  arms,  asked: 
"Do  you  never  feel  cold  like  that?" 

They  both  laughed,  and  amazed  the  family  by 
telling  of  the  enormous  fatigue  they  could  endure,  of 

C  1323 


A    COUNTRY    EXCURSION 

bathing  while  in  a  state  of  tremendous  perspiration, 
of  rowing  in  the  fog  at  night,  and  they  struck  their 
chests  violently,  to  show  how  they  sounded. 

"Ah!  You  look  very  strong,"  the  husband  said, 
and  he  did  not  talk  any  more  of  the  time  when  he 
used  to  beat  the  English.  The  girl  was  looking  at 
them  askance  now,  and  the  young  fellow  with  the 
yellow  hair,  as  he  had  swallowed  some  wine  the 
wrong  way,  and  was  coughing  violently,  bespattered 
Madame  Dufour's  cherry-coloured  silk  dress.  Ma- 
dame got  angry,  and  sent  for  some  water  to  wash  the 
spots. 

Meanwhile  it  had  grown  unbearably  hot,  the 
sparkling  river  looked  like  a  blaze  of  fire  and  the 
fumes  of  the  wine  were  getting  into  their  heads. 
Monsieur  Dufour,  who  had  a  violent  hiccough,  had 
unbuttoned  his  waistcoat  and  the  top  of  his  trousers, 
while  his  wife,  who  felt  choking,  was  gradually  un- 
fastening her  dress.  The  youth  was  shaking  his  yel- 
low mop  of  hair  in  a  happy  frame  of  mind,  and 
kept  helping  himself  to  wine,  and  as  the  old  grand- 
mother felt  drunk,  she  endeavoured  to  be  very  stiff 
and  dignified.  As  for  the  girl,  she']  showed  nothing 
except  a  peculiar  brightness  in  her  eyes,  while  the 
brown  skin  on  her  cheeks  became  more  rosy. 

The  coffee  finished  them  off;  they  spoke  of  sing- 
ing, and  each  of  them  sang,  or  repeated  a  couplet, 
which  the  others  repeated  enthusiastically.  Then 
they  got  up  with  some  difficulty,  and  while  the  two 
women,  who  were  rather  dizzy,  were  getting  some 
fresh  air,  the  two  males,  who  were  altogether  drunk, 
were  performing  gymnastic  tricks.  Heavy,  limp,  and 
with  scarlet  faces,  they  hung  awkwardly  on  to  the 

I  1333 


A    COUNTRY     EXCURSION 

iron  rings,  without  being  able  to  raise  themselves, 
while  their  shirts  were  continually  threatening  to 
part  company  with  their  trousers,  and  to  flap  in  the 
wind  hke  flags. 

Meanwhile,  the  two  boating-men  had  got  their 
skiff's  into  the  water.  They  came  back,  and  pohtely 
asked  the  ladies  whether  they  would  like  a  row. 

"Would  you  like  one,  Monsieur  Dufour?"  his 
wife  exclaimed.     "Please  come!" 

He  merely  gave  her  a  drunken  look,  without  un- 
derstanding what  she  said.  Then  one  of  the  rowers 
came  up,  with  two  fishing-rods  in  his  hand;  and 
the  hope  of  catching  a  gudgeon,  that  great  aim  of 
the  Parisian  shopkeeper,  made  Dufour's  dull  eyes 
gleam.  He  politely  allowed  them  to  do  whatever 
they  liked,  while  he  sat  in  the  shade,  under  the 
bridge,  with  his  feet  dangling  over  the  river,  by  the 
side  of  the  young  man  with  the  yellow  hair,  who 
was  sleeping  soundly  close  to  him. 

One  of  the  boating-men  made  a  martyr  of  him- 
self, and  took  the  mother. 

"Let  us  go  to  the  little  wood  on  the  He  aux  An- 
glais!" he  called  out,  as  he  rowed  off.  The  other 
skiff"  went  slower,  for  the  rower  was  looking  at  his 
companion  so  intently,  that  he  thought  of  nothing 
else.  His  emotion  paralysed  his  strength,  while  the 
girl,  who  was  sitting  on  the  steerer's  seat,  gave  her- 
self up  to  the  enjoyment  of  being  on  the  water.  She 
felt  disinclined  to  think,  felt  a  lassitude  in  her  limbs, 
a  complete  self-relaxation,  as  if  she  were  intoxicated. 
She  had  become  very  flushed,  and  breathed  pant- 
ingly.  The  effect  of  the  wine,  increased  by  the  ex- 
treme heat,  made  all  the  trees  on  the  bank  seem  to 

C  134  U 


A    COUNTRY    EXCURSION 

bow,  as  she  passed.  A  vague  wish  for  enjoyment,  a 
fermentation  of  her  blood,  seemed  to  pervade  her 
whole  body,  and  she  was  also  a  little  agitated  by  this 
tete-a-tete  on  the  water,  in  a  place  which  seemed 
depopulated  by  the  heat,  with  this  young  man,  who 
thought  her  beautiful,  whose  looks  seemed  to  caress 
her  skin,  and  whose  eyes  were  as  penetrating  and 
exciting  as  the  sun's  rays. 

Their  inabihty  to  speak  increased  their  emotion, 
and  they  looked  about  them.  At  last  he  made  an 
effort  and  asked  her  name. 

"Henriette,"  she  said. 

"Why!  My  name  is  Henri,"  he  replied.  The 
sound  of  their  voices  calmed  them,  and  they  looked 
at  the  banks.  The  other  skiff  had  gone  ahead  of 
them,  and  seemed  to  be  waiting  for  them.  The  rower 
called  out: 

"We  will  meet  you  in  the  wood;  we  are  going 
as  far  as  Robinson  because  Madame  Dufour  is 
thirsty."  Then  he  bent  over  his  oars  again  and 
rowed  off  so  quickly  that  he  was  soon  out  of  sight. 

Meanwhile,  a  continual  roar,  which  they  had 
heard  for  some  time,  came  nearer,  and  the  river  itself 
seemed  to  shiver,  as  if  the  dull  noise  were  rising 
from_  its  depths. 

"What  is  that  noise?"  she  asked.  It  was  the 
noise  of  the  weir,  which  cut  the  river  in  two,  at  the 
island.  He  was  explaining  it  to  her,  when  above  the 
noise  of  the  waterfall  they  heard  the  song  of  a  bird, 
which  seemed  a  long  way  off. 

"Listen!"  he  said;  "the  nightingales  are  singing 
during  the  day,  so  the  females  must  be  sitting." 

A  nightingale!     She  had  never  heard  one  before, 

1:135: 


A     COUNTRY     EXCURSION 

and  the  idea  of  listening  to  one  roused  visions  of 
poetic  tenderness  in  her  heart.  A  nightingale!  That 
is  to  say,  the  invisible  witness  of  the  lover's  inter- 
view which  Juliet  invoked  on  her  balcony;  that 
celestial  music  which  is  attuned  to  human  kisses; 
that  eternal  inspirer  of  all  those  languorous  romances 
which  open  idealized  visions  to  the  poor,  tender,  Httle 
hearts  of  sensitive  girls! 

She  was  going  to  hear  a  nightingale. 

"We  must  not  make  a  noise,"  her  companion 
said,  "and  then  we  can  go  into  the  wood,  and  sit 
down  close  to  it.'* 

The  skiff  seemed  to  glide.  They  saw  the  trees 
on  the  island,  the  banks  of  which  were  so  low  that 
they  could  look  into  the  depths  of  the  thickets. 
They  stopped,  he  made  the  boat  fast,  Henriette  took 
hold  of  Henri's  arm,  and  they  went  beneath  the  trees. 

"Stoop,"  he  said,  so  she  bent  down,  and  they 
went  into  an  inextricable  thicket  of  creepers,  leaves, 
and  reed-grass,  which  formed  an  impenetrable  re- 
treat, and  which  the  young  man  laughingly  called 
"his  private  room." 

Just  above  their  heads,  perched  in  one  of  the  trees 
which  hid  them,  the  bird  was  still  singing.  He  ut- 
tered shakes  and  trills,  and  then  long,  vibrating 
sounds  that  filled  the  air  and  seemed  to  lose  them- 
selves in  the  distance,  across  the  level  country, 
through  that  burning  silence  which  hung  low  upon 
the  whole  country  round.  They  did  not  speak  for 
fear  of  frightening  the  bird  away.  They  were  sitting 
close  together,  and  slowly  Henri's  arm  stole  round 
the  girl's  waist  and  squeezed  it  gently.  She  took  that 
daring  hand,  but  without  anger,  and  kept  removing  it 


A     COUNTRY     EXCURSION 

whenever  he  put  it  round  her;  not,  however,  feeling 
at  all  embarrassed  by  this  caress,  just  as  if  it  had 
been  something  quite  natural  which  she  was  resist- 
ing just  as  naturally. 

She  was  listening  to  the  bird  in  ecstasy.  She  felt 
an  infinite  longing  for  happiness,  for  some  sudden 
demonstration  of  tenderness,  for  a  revelation  of 
divine  poesy.  She  felt  such  a  softening  at  her  heart, 
and  such  a  relaxation  of  her  nerves,  that  she  began  to 
cry,  without  knowing  why.  The  young  man  was  now 
straining  her  close  to  him,  and  she  did  not  remove 
his  arm;  she  did  not  think  of  it.  Suddenly  the  night- 
ingale stopped,  and  a  voice  called  out  in  the  distance: 

"Henriette!" 

"Do  not  reply,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice,  "you 
wil!  drive  the  bird  away." 

But  she  had  no  idea  of  doing  so,  and  they  re- 
mained in  the  same  position  for  some  time.  Madame 
Dufour  had  sat  down  somewhere  or  other,  for  from 
time  to  time  they  heard  the  stout  lady  break  out 
into  little  bursts  of  laughter. 

The  girl  was  still  crying;  she  was  filled  with 
delightful  feelings,  her  skin  was  burning  and  she 
felt  a  strange  sensation  of  tickling.  Henri's  head  was 
on  her  shoulder,  and  suddenly  he  kissed  her  on  the 
lips.  She  was  surprised  and  angry,  and,  to  avoid 
him,  she  threw  herself  back.  But  he  fell  upon  her 
and  his  whole  body  covered  hers.  For  a  long  time 
he  sought  her  lips,  which  she  refused  him,  then  he 
pressed  her  mouth  to  his.  Seized  with  desire  she 
returned  his  kiss,  holding  him  to  her  breast,  and 
she  abandoned  all  resistance,  as  if  crushed  by  too 
heavy  a  weight. 

C137: 


A    COUNTRY    EXCURSION 

Everything  about  them  was  still.  The  bird  began 
again  to  sing,  sending  forth  three  penetrating  notes 
at  first,  Hke  a  call  of  love,  then,  after  a  momentary 
silence,  it  began  in  weaker  tones  its  slow  modula- 
tions. A  soft  breeze  crept  up,  raising  a  murmur 
among  the  leaves,  while  from  the  depths  of  the 
branches  two  burning  sighs  mingled  with  the  song 
of  the  nightingale  and  the  gentle  breath  of  the 
wood. 

An  intoxication  possessed  the  bird  and  by  degrees 
its  notes  came  more  rapidly  hke  a  fire  spreading  or 
a  passion  increasing,  and  they  seemed  to  be  an 
accompaniment  to  the  kisses  which  resounded  be- 
neath the  tree.  Then  the  dehrium  of  his  song  burst 
forth.  He  seemed  to  swoon  on  certain  notes,  to 
have  spasms  of  melodious  emotion.  Sometimes  he 
would  rest  a  moment,  emitting  only  two  or  three 
shght  sounds  suddenly  terminated  on  a  sharp  note. 
Or  he  would  launch  into  a  frenzy,  pouring  out  his 
song,  with  thrills  and  jerks,  hke  a  mad  song  of  love, 
followed  by  cries  of  triumph.  Then  he  stopped, 
hearing  beneath  him  a  sigh  so  deep  that  it  seemed  as 
though  a  soul  were  transported.  The  sound  was 
prolonged  for  a  while,  then  it  ended  in  a  sob. 

They  were  both  very  pale  when  they  quitted  their 
grassy  retreat.  The  blue  sky  looked  dull  to  them, 
the  ardent  sun  was  clouded  over  to  their  eyes,  they 
perceived  not  the  soHtude  and  the  silence.  They 
walked  quickly  side  by  side,  without  speaking  or 
touching  each  other,  appearing  to  be  irreconcilable 
enemies,  as  if  disgust  had  sprung  up  between  their 
bodies,  and  hatred  between  their  souls.  From  time 
to  time  Henriette  called  out:    "Mamma!" 


A    COUNTRY     EXCURSION 

They  heard  a  noise  in  a  thicket,  and  Henri 
fancied  he  saw  a  white  dress  being  quickly  pulled 
down  over  a  fat  calf.  The  stout  lady  appeared, 
looking  rather  confused,  and  more  flushed  than  ever, 
her  eyes  shining  and  her  breast  heaving,  and  per- 
haps just  a  Httle  too  close  to  her  companion.  The 
latter  must  have  had  some  strange  experience,  for 
his  face  was  wrinkled  with  smiles  that  he  could  not 
check. 

Madame  Dufour  took  his  arm  tenderly,  and  they 
returned  to  the  boats.  Henri  went  on  first,  still 
without  speaking,  by  the  girl's  side,  and  he  thought 
he  heard  a  loud  kiss  being  stifled.  At  last  they  got 
back  to  Bezons. 

Monsieur  Dufour,  who  had  sobered  up,  was 
waiting  for  them  very  impatiently,  while  the  youth 
with  the  yellow  hair  was  having  a  mouthful  of  some- 
thing to  eat  before  leaving  the  inn.  The  carriage 
was  in  the  yard,  with  the  horse  yoked,  and  the 
grandmother,  who  had  already  got  in,  was  frightened 
at  the  thought  of  being  overtaken  by  night,  before 
they  got  back  to  Paris,  the  outskirts  not  being  safe. 

The  young  men  shook  hands  with  them,  and  the 
Dufour  family  drove  off. 

"Good-bye,  until  we  meet  again!"  the  oarsmen 
cried,  and  the  answers  they  got  were  a  sigh  and  a 
tear. 


Two  months  later,  as  Henri  was  going  along  the 
Rue  des  Martyrs,  he  saw  "Dufour,  Ironmonger," 
over  a  door.  So  he  went  in,  and  saw  the  stout 
lady  sitting  at  the  counter.     They  recognized  each 

c  1393 


A    COUNTRY    EXCURSION 

Other  immediately,  and  after  an  interchange  of 
polite  greetings,  he  inquired  after  them  all. 

"And  how  is  Mademoiselle  Henriette?"  he  in- 
quired, specially. 

"Very  well,  thank  you;    she  is  married." 

*'Ah!"  Mastering  his  feehngs,  he  added:  **To 
whom  was  she  married?" 

"To  that  young  man  who  went  with  us,  you 
know;    he  has  Joined  us  in  business." 

"I  remember  him  perfectly." 

He  was  going  out,  feeling  unhappy,  though 
scarcely  knowing  why,  when  Madame  called  him 
back. 

"And  how  is  your  friend?"  she  asked,  rather 
shyly. 

"He  is  very  well,  thank  you." 

"Please  give  him  our  compliments,  and  beg  him 
to  come  and  call  when  he  is  in  the  neighbourhood." 
She  blushed,  then  added:  "Tell  him  it  will  give  me 
great  pleasure." 

"I  will  be  sure  to  do  so.     Adieu!" 

"I  will  not  say  that;    come  again,  very  soon." 


The  next  year,  one  very  hot  Sunday,  all  the  de- 
tails of  that  memorable  adventure  suddenly  came 
back  to  him  so  clearly  that  he  revisited  the  "private 
room"  in  the  wood,  and  was  overwhelmed  with 
astonishment  when  he  went  in.  She  was  sitting  on 
the  grass,  looking  very  sad,  while  by  her  side,  again 
in  his  shirt-sleeves,  the  young  man  with  the  yellow 
hair  was  sleeping  soundly,   like  some  brute. 

She  grew  so  pale  when  she  saw  Henri,  that  at 

C  1403 


A    COUNTRY    EXCURSION 

first  he  thought  she  was  going  to  faint;  then,  how- 
ever, they  began  to  talk  quite  naturally,  as  if  there 
had  never  been  anything  between  them.  But  when 
he  told  her  that  he  was  very  fond  of  that  spot,  and 
went  there  very  often  on  Sundays,  to  dream  of  old 
memories,  she  looked  into  his  eyes  for  a  long  time. 
"I,  too,  think  of  it  every  evening,"  she  rephed. 

"Come,    my   dear,"    her   husband    said,    with   a 
yawn;    "I  think  it  is  time  for  us  to  be  going." 


c  141  n 


SIMON'S     FATHER 

N'"OON  had  just  struck.  The  school-door  opened 
and  the  youngsters  streamed  out  tumbhng 
over  one  another  in  their  haste  to  get  out 
quickly.  But  instead  of  promptly  dispersing  and 
going  home  to  dinner  as  was  their  daily  wont,  they 
stopped  a  few  paces  off,  broke  up  into  knots  and 
set  to  whispering. 

The  fact  was  that  that  morning  Simon,  the  son 
of  La  Blanchotte,  had,  for  the  first  time,  attended 
school. 

They  had  all  of  them  in  their  families  heard  of 
La  Blanchotte;  and  although  in  pubhc  she  was 
welcome  enough,  the  mothers  among  themselves 
treated  her  with  compassion  of  a  somewhat  dis- 
dainful kind,  which  the  children  had  caught  with- 
out in  the  least  knowing  why. 

As  for  Simon  himself,  they  did  not  know  him, 
for  he  never  went  abroad,  and  did  not  play  around 
with  them  through  the  streets  of  the  village  or 
along  the  banks  of  the  river.  So  they  did  not  like 
him  much,  and  it  was  with  a  certain  delight,  mingled 
with  astonishment,  that  they  gathered  in  groups 
this  morning,  repeating  to  each  other  this  phrase 
pronounced  by  a  lad  of  fourteen  or  fifteen  who 
appeared  to  know  all  about  it,  so  sagaciously  did  he 
wink:   "You  know  Simon  —  well,  he  has  no  father." 

C  1423 


SIMON'S     FATHER 

La  Blanchotte's  son  appeared  in  his  turn  upon  the 
threshold  of  the  school. 

He  was  seven  or  eight  years  old,  rather  pale, 
very  neat,  with  a  timid  and  almost  awkward 
manner. 

He  was  making  his  way  back  to  his  mother's 
house  when  the  various  groups  of  his  schoolfellows, 
perpetually  whispering,  and  watching  him  with  the 
mischievous  and  heartless  eyes  of  children  bent  upon 
playing  a  nasty  trick,  gradually  surrounded  him  and 
ended  by  enclosing  him  altogether.  There  he  stood 
amongst  them,  surprised  andj  embarrassed,  not  un- 
derstanding what  they  were  going  to  do  to  him. 
But  the  lad  who  had  brought  the  news,  puffed  up 
with  the  success  he  had  met  with,  demanded: 

"What  is  your  name?" 

He  answered:    "Simon." 

"Simon  what?"  retorted  the  other. 

The  child,  altogether  bewildered,  repeated:  "Si- 
mon." 

The  lad  shouted  at  him:  "You  must  be  named 
Simon  something!  That  is  not  a  name  —  Simon 
indeed!" 

And  he,  on  the  brink  of  tears,  replied  for  the  third 
time: 

"My  name  is  Simon." 

The  urchins  began  laughing.  The  lad,  trium- 
phantly lifted  up  his  voice:  "You  can  see  plainly 
that  he  has  no  father." 

A  deep  silence  ensued.  The  children  were  dum- 
founded  by  this  extraordinary,  impossibly  monstrous 
thing  —  a  boy  who  had  no  father;  they  looked  upon 
him  as  a  phenomenon,  an  unnatural  being,  and  they 

C  143  H 


SIMON'S     FATHER 

felt  rising  in  them  the  hitherto  inexplicable  pity  of 
their  mothers  for  La  Blanchotte.  As  for  Simon,  he 
had  propped  himself  against  a  tree  to  avoid  falhng, 
and  he  stood  there  as  if  paralysed  by  an  irreparable 
disaster.  He  sought  to  explain,  but  he  could  think 
of  no  answer  for  them,  no  way  to  deny  this  horrible 
charge  that  he  had  no  father.  At  last  he  shouted  at 
them  quite  recklessly:   "Yes,  I  have  one." 

"Where  is  he?"  demanded  the  boy. 

Simon  was  silent,  he  did  not  know.  The  children 
shrieked,  tremendously  excited.  These  sons  of  the 
soil,  more  animal  than  human,  experienced  the  cruel 
craving  which  makes  the  fowls  of  a  farmyard  de- 
stroy one  of  their  own  kind  as  soon  as  it  is  wounded. 
Simon  suddenly  spied  a  little  neighbour,  the  son  of 
a  widow,  whom  he  had  always  seen,  as  he  himself 
was  to  be  seen,  quite  alone  with  his  mother. 

"And  no  more  have  you,"  he  said,  "no  more 
have  you  a  father." 

"Yes,"  replied  the  other,  "I  have  one." 

"Where  is  he?"  rejoined  Simon. 

"He  is  dead,"  declared  the  brat  with  superb  dig- 
nity,  "he  is  in  the  cemetery,  is  my  father." 

A  murmur  of  approval  rose  amid  the  scape- 
graces, as  if  the  fact  of  possessing  a  father  dead  in 
a  cemetery  made  their  comrade  big  enough  to  crush 
the  other  one  who  had  no  father  at  all.  And  these 
rogues,  whose  fathers  were  for  the  most  part  evil- 
doers, drunkards,  thieves,  and  harsh  with  their 
wives,  hustled  each  other  as  they  pressed  closer  and 
closer  to  Simon  as  though  they,  the  legitimate  ones, 
would  stifle  in  their  pressure  one  who  was  beyond 
the  law. 

C  1443 


SIMON'S     FATHER 

The  lad  next  Simon  suddenly  put  his  tongue  out 
at  him  with  a  waggish  air  and  shouted  at  him: 

"No  father!    No  father!" 

Simon  seized  him  by  the  hair  with  both  hands 
and  set  to  work  to  kick  his  legs  while  he  bit  his  cheek 
ferociously.  A  tremendous  struggle  ensued.  The 
two  boys  were  separated  and  Simon  found  himself 
beaten,  torn,  bruised,  rolled  on  the  ground  in  the 
middle  of  the  ring  of  applauding  Httle  vagabonds. 
As  he  arose,  mechanically  brushing  his  Httle  blouse 
all  covered  with  dust  with  his  hand,  some  one  shouted 
at  him: 

"Go  and  tell  your  father." 

He  then  felt  a  great  sinking  in  his  heart.  They 
were  stronger  than  he,  they  had  beaten  him  and  he 
had  no  answer  to  give  them,  for  he  knew  it  was 
true  that  he  had  no  father.  Full  of  pride  he  tried  for 
some  moments  to  struggle  against  the  tears  which 
were  suffocating  him.  He  had  a  choking  fit,  and 
then  without  cries  he  began  to  weep  with  great  sobs 
which  shook  him  incessantly.  Then  a  ferocious  joy 
broke  out  among  his  enemies,  and,  just  Hke  savages 
in  fearful  festivals,  they  took  one  another  by  the  hand 
and  danced  in  a  circle  about  him  as  they  repeated  in 
refrain : 

"No  father!    No  father!" 

But  suddenly  Simon  ceased  sobbing.  Frenzy  over- 
took him.  There  were  stones  under  his  feet;  he 
picked  them  up  and  with  all  his  strength  hurled 
them  at  his  tormentors.  Two  or  three  were  struck 
and  ran  away  yelling,  and  so  formidable  did  he  ap- 
pear that  the  rest  became  panic-stricken.  Cowards, 
hke  a  jeering  crowd  in  the  presence  of  an  exasper- 

C  145  H 


SIMON'S     FATHER 

ated  man,  they  broke  up  and  fled.  Left  alone,  the 
little  thing  without  a  father  set  off"  running  toward 
the  fields,  for  a  recollection  had  been  awakened  which 
nerved  his  soul  to  a  great  determination.  He  made 
up  his  mind  to  drown  himself  in  the  river. 

He  remembered,  in  fact,  that  eight  days  ago  a 
poor  devil  who  begged  for  his  hvehhood  had  thrown 
himself  into  the  water  because  he  was  destitute. 
Simon  had  been  there  when  they  fished  him  out 
again;  and  the  sight  of  the  fellow,  who  had  seemed 
to  him  so  miserable  and  ugly,  had  then  impressed 
him  —  his  pale  cheeks,  his  long  drenched  beard, 
and  his  open  eyes  being  full  of  calm.  The  by- 
standers had  said: 

"He  is  dead." 

And  some  one  had  added: 

"He  is  quite  happy  now." 

So  Simon  wished  to  drown  himself  also  because 
he  had  no  father,  just  as  the  wretched  man  did  who 
had  no  money- 
He  reached  the  water  and  watched  it  flowing. 
Some  fishes  were  rising  briskly  in  the  clear  stream 
and  occasionally  made  little  leaps  and  caught  the 
flies  on  the  surface.  He  stopped  crying  in  order  to 
watch  them,  for  their  feeding  interested  him  vastly. 
But,  at  intervals,  as  in  the  lulls  of  a  tempest,  when 
tremendous  gusts  of  wind  snap  off"  trees  and  then 
die  away,  this  thought  would  return  to  him  with 
intense  pain: 

"I  am  about  to  drown  myself  because  I  have  no 
father." 

It  was  very  warm  and  lovely.  The  pleasant  sun- 
shine warmed  the  grass;    the  water  shone  like  a 

1:1463 


SIMON'S     PATH  ER 

mirror;  and  Simon  enjoyed  for  some  minutes  the 
happiness  of  that  languor  which  follows  weeping, 
desirous  even  of  falling  asleep  there  upon  the  grass 
in  the  warmth  of  noon. 

A  httle  green  frog  leaped  from  under  his  feet. 
He  endeavoured  to  catch  it.  It  escaped  him.  He 
pursued  it  and  lost  it  three  times  following.  At 
last  he  caught  it  by  one  of  its  hind  legs  and  began 
to  laugh  as  he  saw  the  efforts  the  creature  made  to 
escape.  It  gathered  itself  up  on  its  large  legs  and 
then  with  a  violent  spring  suddenly  stretched  them 
out  as  stiff  as  two  bars.  Its  eyes  stared  wide  open 
in  their  round,  golden  circle,  and  it  beat  the  air 
with  its  front  limbs,  using  them  as  though  they 
were  hands.  It  reminded  him  of  a  toy  made  with 
straight  slips  of  wood  nailed  zigzag  one  on  the 
other,  which  by  a  similar  movement  regulated  the 
exercise  of  the  little  soldiers  fastened  thereon. 
Then  he  thought  of  his  home  and  of  his  mother, 
and  overcome  by  great  sorrow  he  again  began  to 
weep.  His  limbs  trembled;  and  he  placed  himself 
on  his  knees  and  said  his  prayers  as  before  going 
to  bed.  But  he  was  unable  to  finish  them,  for  such 
hurried  and  violent  sobs  overtook  him  that  he  was 
completely  overwhelmed.  He  thought  no  more, 
he  no  longer  heeded  anything  around  him  but  was 
wholly  given  up  to  tears. 

Suddenly  a  heavy  hand  was  placed  upon  his  shoul- 
der, and  a  rough  voice  asked  him: 

"What  is  it  that  causes  you  so  much  grief,  my 
little  man?" 

Simon  turned  round.  A  tall  workman,  with  a 
black   beard   and   curly   hair,   was   staring    at  him 

C  1473 


SIMON'S     FATHER 

good-naturedly.  He  answered  with  his  eyes  and 
throat  full  of  tears : 

"They  have  beaten  me  because  —  I  —  I  have 
no  father  —  no  father." 

"What!"  said  the  man  smihng,  "why,  every- 
body has  one." 

The  child  answered  painfully  amid  his  spasms 
of  grief: 

"But  I  —  I  —  I  have  none." 

Then  the  workman  became  serious.  He  had 
recognized  La  Blanchotte's  son,  and  although  a  re- 
cent arrival  to  the  neighbourhood  he  had  a  vague 
idea  of  her  history. 

"Well,"  said  he,  "console  yourself,  my  boy,  and 
come  with  me  home  to  your  mother.  You'll  have 
a  father." 

And  so  they  started  on  the  way,  the  big  one 
holding  the  little  one  by  the  hand.  The  man  smiled 
again,  for  he  was  not  sorry  to  see  this  Blanchotte, 
who  by  popular  report  was  one  of  the  prettiest 
girls  in  the  country-side,  and,  perhaps,  he  said  to 
himself  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart,  that  a  lass  who 
had  erred  once  might  very  well  err  again. 

They  arrived  in  front  of  a  very  neat  little  white 
house. 

"There  it  is,"  exclaimed  the  child,  and  he  cried: 
"Mamma." 

A  woman  appeared,  and  the  workman  instantly 
left  off  smiling,  for  he  at  once  perceived  that  there 
was  no  more  fooling  to  be  done  with  the  tall  pale 
girl,  who  stood  austerely  at  her  door  as  though  to 
defend  from  one  man  the  threshold  of  that  house 
where  she  had  already  been  betrayed  by  another. 

ni48  3 


SIMON'S     FATHER 

Intimidated,  his  cap  in  his  hand,  he  stammered 
out: 

"See,  Madame,  I  have  brought  you  back  your 
httle  boy,  who  was  lost  near  the  river." 

But  Simon  flung  his  arms  about  his  mother's 
neck  and  told  her,  as  he  again  began  to  cry: 

"No,  mamma,  I  wished  to  drown  myself,  be- 
cause the  others  had  beaten  me  —  had  beaten  me 
—  because  I  have  no  father." 

A  painful  blush  covered  the  young  woman's 
cheeks,  and,  hurt  to  the  quick,  she  embraced  her 
child  passionately,  while  the  tears  coursed  down  her 
face.  The  man,  much  moved,  stood  there,  not 
knowing  how  to  get  away.  But  Simon  suddenly 
ran  up  to  him  and  said: 

"Will  you  be  my  father?" 

A  deep  silence  ensued.  La  Blanchotte,  dumb  and 
tortured  with  shame,  leaned  against  the  wall,  her 
hands  upon  her  heart.  The  child,  seeing  that  no 
answer  was  made  him,  replied: 

"If  you  do  not  wish  it,  I  shall  return  to  drown 
myself." 

The  workman  took  the  matter  as  a  jest  and  an- 
swered laughing: 

"Why,   yes,    I   wish   it,   certainly." 

"What  is  your  name,"  went  on  the  child,  "so 
that  I  may  tell  the  others  when  they  wish  to  know 
your  name?" 

"Philip,"  answered  the  man. 

Simon  was  silent  a  moment  so  that  he  might  get 
the  name  well  into  his  memory;  then  he  stretched 
out  his  arms,  quite  consoled,  and  said: 

"Well,  then,  Philip,  you  are  my  father." 

C  1493 


SIMON'S     FATHER 

The  workman,  lifting  him  from  the  ground, 
kissed  him  hastily  on  both  cheeks,  and  then  strode 
away  quickly. 

When  the  child  returned  to  school  next  day  he 
was  received  with  a  spiteful  laugh,  and  at  the 
end  of  school,  when  the  lad  was  about  to  begin 
again,  Simon  threw  these  words  at  his  head  as  he 
would  have  done  a  stone:  "My  father's  name  is 
Phihp." 

Yells  of  delight  burst  out  from  all  sides. 

"Philip  who?  Philip  what?  What  on  earth  is 
Philip?     Where  did  you  pick  up  your  Philip?" 

Simon  answered  nothing;  and  immovable  in 
faith  he  defied  them  with  his  eye,  ready  to  be  mar- 
tyred rather  than  fly  before  them.  The  school- 
master came  to  his  rescue  and  he  returned  home 
to  his  mother. 

For  about  three  months,  the  tall  workman, 
Philip,  frequently  passed  by  La  Blanchotte's  house, 
and  sometimes  made  bold  to  speak  to  her  when  he 
saw  her  sewing  near  the  window.  She  answered 
him  civilly,  always  sedately,  never  joking  with  him, 
nor  permitting  him  to  enter  her  house.  Notwith- 
standing this,  being  like  all  men,  a  bit  of  a  coxcomb, 
he  imagined  that  she  was  often  rosier  than  usual 
when  she  chatted  with  him. 

But  a  fallen  reputation  is  so  difficult  to  recover, 
and  always  remains  so  fragile  that,  in  spite  of  the 
shy  reserve  La  Blanchotte  maintained,  they  already 
gossiped  in  the  neighbourhood. 

As  for  Simon,  he  loved  his  new  father  very  much, 
and  walked  with  him  nearly  every  evening  when 
the  day's  work  was  done.     He  went  regularly  to 

C  1503 


SIMON'S    FATHER 

school  and  mixed  in  a  dignified  way  with  his  school- 
fellows without  ever  answering  them  back. 

One  day,  however,  the  lad  who  had  first  attacked 
him  said  to  him: 

"You  have  lied.  You  have  no  father  called  Philip." 

"Why  do  you  say  that?"  demanded  Simon, 
much  disturbed. 

The  youth  rubbed  his  hands.     He  rephed: 

"Because  if  you  had  one  he  would  be  your 
mamma's  husband." 

Simon  was  confused  by  the  truth  of  this  reason- 
ing;  nevertheless  he  retorted: 

"He  is  my  father  all  the  same." 

"That  may  well  be,"  exclaimed  the  urchin 
with  a  sneer,  "but  that  is  not  being  your  father 
altogether." 

La  Blanchotte's  little  one  bowed  his  head  and 
went  off  dreaming  in  the  direction  of  the  forge 
belonging  to  old  Loizon,  where  Philip  worked. 

This  forge  was  entombed  in  trees.  It  was  very 
dark  there,  the  red  glare  of  a  formidable  furnace 
alone  lit  up  with  great  flashes  five  blacksmiths, 
who  hammered  upon  their  anvils  with  a  terrible 
din.  Standing  enveloped  in  flame,  they  worked 
like  demons,  their  eyes  fixed  on  the  red-hot  iron 
they  were  pounding;  and  their  dull  ideas  rising  and 
falling  with  their  hammers. 

Simon  entered  without  being  noticed  and  quietly 
plucked  his  friend  by  the  sleeve.  Philip  turned 
round.  All  at  once  the  work  came  to  a  standstill 
and  the  men  looked  on  very  attentively.  Then,  in 
the  midst  of  this  unaccustomed  silence,  rose  Simon's 
piping  voice. 


SIMON'S     FATHER 

"Philip,  explain  to  me  what  La  Michaude's  boy 
has  just  told  me,  that  you  are  not  altogether  my 
father." 

"And  why  so?"  asked  the  smith. 

The  child  replied  in  all  innocence: 

"Because  you  are  not  my  mamma's  husband." 

No  one  laughed.  Philip  remained  standing, 
leaning  his  forehead  upon  the  back  of  his  great 
hands,  which  held  the  handle  of  his  hammer  up- 
right upon  the  anvil.  He  mused.  His  four  com- 
panions watched  him,  and,  hke  a  tiny  mite  among 
these  giants,  Simon  anxiously  waited.  Suddenly, 
one  of  the  smiths,  voicing  the  sentiment  of  all, 
said  to  Phihp: 

"All  the  same  La  Blanchotte  is  a  good  and  honest 
girl,  stalwart  and  steady  in  spite  of  her  misfortune, 
and  one  who  would  make  a  worthy  wife  for  an 
honest  man." 

"That  is  true,"  remarked  the  three  others. 

The  smith  continued: 

"Is  it  the  girl's  fault  if  she  has  fallen?  She  had 
been  promised  marriage,  and  I  know  more  than  one 
who  is  much  respected  to-day  and  has  sinned  every 
bit  as  much." 

"That  is  true,"  responded  the  three  men  in 
chorus. 

He  resumed: 

"How  hard  she  has  toiled,  poor  thing,  to  educate 
her  lad  all  alone,  and  how  much  she  has  wept  since 
she  no  longer  goes  out,  save  to  church,  God  only 
knows." 

"That  is  also  true,"  said  the  others. 

Then  no  more  was  heard  save  the  roar  of  the  bel- 
li 1523 


SIMON'S     FATHER 

lows  which  fanned  the  fire  of  the  furnace.  Philip 
hastily  bent  down  towards  Simon: 

"Go  and  tell  your  mamma  that  I  shall  come  to 
speak  to  her." 

Then  he  pushed  the  child  out  by  the  shoulders. 
He  returned  to  his  work  and  in  unison  the  five  ham- 
mers again  fell  upon  their  anvils.  Thus  they 
wrought  the  iron  until  nightfall,  strong,  powerful, 
happy,  like  Vulcans  satisfied.  But  as  the  great 
bell  of  a  cathedral  resounds  upon  feast  days,  above 
the  jingling  of  the  other  bells,  so  Phifip's  hammer, 
dominating  the  noise  of  the  others,  clanged  second 
after  second  with  a  deafening  uproar.  His  eye  on 
the  fire,  he  plied  his  trade  vigorously,  erect  amid 
the  sparks. 

The  sky  was  full  of  stars  as  he  knocked  at  La 
Blanchotte's  door.  He  had  his  Sunday  blouse  on, 
a  fresh  shirt,  and  his  beard  was  trimmed.  The 
young  woman  showed  herself  upon  the  threshold 
and  said  in  a  grieved  tone: 

"  It  is  not  right  to  come  this  way  when  night  has 
fallen,  Mr.  Philip." 

He  wished  to  answer,  but  stammered  and  stood 
confused  before  her. 

She  resumed. 

"And  you  understand  quite  well  that  it  will  not 
do  that  I  should  be  talked  about  any  more." 

Then  he  said  all  at  once: 

"What  does  that  matter  to  me,  if  you  will  be  my 
wife!" 

No  voice  replied  to  him,  but  he  believed  that  he 
heard  in  the  shadow  of  the  room  the  sound  of  a 
body  falling.    He  entered  very  quickly;   and  Simon, 

1:1533 


SIMON'S    FATHER 

who  had  gone  to  his  bed,  distinguished  the  sound 
of  a  kiss  and  some  words  that  his  mother  said  very 
softly.  Then  he  suddenly  found  himself  hfted  up 
by  the  hands  of  his  friend,  who,  holding  him  at  the 
length  of  his  herculean  arms,  exclaimed  to  him: 

"You  will  tell  your  school-fellows  that  your 
father  is  Philip  Remy,  the  blacksmith,  and  that  he 
will  pull  the  ears  of  all  who  do  you  any  harm." 

The  next  day,  when  the  school  was  full  and 
lessons  were  about  to  begin,  little  Simon  stood  up 
quite  pale  with  trembling   lips: 

"My  father,"  said  he  in  a  clear  voice,  "is  Phihp 
Remy,  the  blacksmith,  and  he  has  promised  to  box 
the  ears  of  all  who  do  me  any  harm." 

This  time  no  one  laughed  any  longer,  for  he  was 
very  well  known,  was  Philip  Remy,  the  blacksmith, 
and  he  was  a  father  of  whom  they  would  all  have 
been  proud. 


C  154  !1 


A    FAMILY    AFFAIR 

THE  Neuilly  steam-tram  had  just  passed  the 
Porte  Maillot,  and  was  going  along  the  broad 
avenue  that  terminates  at  the  Seine.  The 
small  engine  that  was  attached  to  the  car  whistled, 
to  warn  any  obstacle  to  get  out  of  its  way,  let  off 
steam,  panted  Hke  a  person  out  of  breath  from  run- 
ning, and  its  pistons  made  a  rapid  noise,  Hke  iron  legs 
running.  The  oppressive  heat  of  the  end  of  a  sum- 
mer day  lay  over  the  whole  city,  and  from  the  road, 
although  there  was  not  a  breath  of  wind  stirring, 
there  arose  a  white,  chalky,  opaque,  suffocating,  and 
warm  dust  which  stuck  to  the  moist  skin,  filled 
the  eyes,  and  got  into  the  lungs.  People  were  stand- 
ing in  the  doors  of  their  houses  in  search  of  a  httle  air. 
The  windows  of  the  steam-tram  were  down,  and 
the  curtains  fluttered  in  the  wind.  There  were 
very  few  passengers  inside,  because  on  such  warm 
days  people  preferred  the  top  or  the  platforms.  The 
few  inside  consisted  of  stout  women  in  strange 
toilettes,  shopkeepers'  wives  from  the  suburbs,  who 
made  up  for  the  distinguished  looks  which  they  did 
not  possess  by  ill-assumed  dignity;  of  gentlemen 
tired  of  their  office,  with  yellow  faces,  who  stooped 
with  one  shoulder  higher  than  the  other,  in  conse- 
quence of  long  hours  of  work  bending  over  the  desk. 
Their  uneasy  and  melancholy  faces  also  spoke  of 

C155: 


A     FAMILY    AFFAIR 

domestic  troubles,  of  constant  want  of  money,  of 
former  hopes  that  had  been  finally  disappointed. 
They  all  belonged  to  that  army  of  poor,  threadbare 
devils  who  vegetate  economically  in  mean,  plastered 
houses,  with  a  tiny  grass  border  for  a  garden,  in 
the  midst  of  the  district  where  rubbish  is  deposited, 
on  the  outskirts  of  Paris. 

Near  the  door  a  short,  fat  man,  with  a  puffy  face 
and  a  big  stomach,  dressed  in  black  and  wearing  a 
decoration  in  his  buttonhole,  was  talking  to  a  tall, 
thin  man,  attired  in  a  dirty,  white  hnen  suit  all 
unbuttoned,  and  wearing  a  white  Panama  hat. 
The  former  spoke  so  slowly  and  hesitatingly,  that 
occasionally  it  almost  seemed  as  if  he  stammered; 
it  was  Monsieur  Caravan,  chief  clerk  in  the  Ad- 
miralty. The  other,  who  had  formerly  been  sur- 
geon on  board  a  merchant  ship,  had  set  up  in  prac- 
tice in  Courbevoie,  where  he  apphed  the  vague 
remnants  of  medical  knowledge  which  he  had  re- 
tained after  an  adventurous  life,  to  heahng  the 
wretched  population  of  that  district.  His  name 
was  Chenet,  and  he  had  made  the  people  call  him 
Doctor,  and  strange  rumours  were  current  as  to  his 
morality. 

Monsieur  Caravan  had  always  led  the  normal  life 
of  a  man  in  a  government  office.  Every  morning  for 
the  last  thirty  years  he  had  invariably  gone  the  same 
way  to  his  office,  had  met  the  same  men  going  to 
business  at  the  same  time  and  nearly  on  the  same 
spot,  returned  home  every  evening  the  same  way, 
and  again  met  the  same  faces,  which  he  had  seen 
growing  old.  Every  morning,  after  buying  his 
half-penny  paper   at   the  corner   of  the   Faubourg 

1:156: 


A    FAMILY    AFFAIR 

Saint-Honore,  he  bought  his  two  rolls,  and  then 
rushed  to  his  office,  hke  a  culprit  giving  himself  up 
to  justice.  He  got  to  his  desk  as  quickly  as  possible, 
always  feeling  uneasy,  as  if  expecting  a  rebuke  for 
some  neglect  of  duty  of  which  he  might  have  been 
guilty. 

Nothing  had  ever  occurred  to  change  the  monot- 
onous order  of  his  existence;  no  event  affected  him 
except  the  work  of  his  office,  gratuities,  and  promo- 
tion. He  never  spoke  of  anything  but  of  his  duties, 
either  at  the  Admiralty  or  at  home,  for  he  had 
married  the  portionless  daughter  of  one  of  his 
colleagues.  His  mind,  which  was  in  a  state  of 
atrophy  from  his  depressing  daily  work,  had  no  other 
thoughts,  hopes,  or  dreams  than  such  as  related  to 
the  office,  and  there  was  a  constant  source  of  bitter- 
ness that  spoiled  every  pleasure  that  he  might  have 
had,  and  that  was  the  employment  of  so  many 
commissioners  of  the  navy,  "tinmen,"  as  they  were 
called,  because  of  their  silver-Iace,  as  first-class  clerks 
and  heads  of  departments.  Every  evening  at  dinner 
he  discussed  the  matter  hotly  with  his  wife,  who 
shared  his  angry  feelings,  and  proved  to  their  own 
satisfaction  that  it  was  in  every  way  unjust  to  give 
jobs  in  Paris  to  men  who  ought  properly  to  have 
been  employed  in  the  navy. 

He  was  old  now,  and  had  scarcely  noticed  how 
his  life  was  passing,  for  school  had  merely  been  ex- 
changed, without  any  transition,  for  the  office,  and 
the  ushers  at  whom  he  had  formerly  trembled  were 
replaced  by  his  chiefs,  of  whom  he  was  terribly 
afraid.  When  he  had  to  go  into  the  rooms  of  these 
official  despots,  it  made  him  tremble  from  head  to 

C  157  D 


A     FAMILY     AFFAIR 

foot,  and  that  constant  fear  had  given  him  a  very 
awkward  manner  in  their  presence,  a  humble  de- 
meanour, and  a  kind  of  nervous  stammering. 

He  knew  nothing  more  about  Paris  than  a  bhnd 
man  could  know,  who  was  led  to  the  same  spot  by 
his  dog  every  day.  If  he  read  the  account  of  any 
uncommon  events,  or  of  scandals,  in  his  half-penny 
paper,  they  appeared  to  him  Hke  fantastic  tales, 
which  some  pressman  had  made  up  out  of  his  own 
head,  in  order  to  amuse  minor  clerks.  He  did  not 
read  the  political  news,  which  his  paper  frequently 
altered,  as  the  cause  which  subsidized  them  might 
require,  for  he  was  not  fond  of  innovations,  and 
when  he  went  through  the  Avenue  of  the  Champs- 
Elysees  every  evening,  he  looked  at  the  surging 
crowd  of  pedestrians,  and  at  the  stream  of  carriages, 
hke  a  traveller  who  has  lost  his  way  in  a  strange 
country. 

As  he  had  completed  his  thirty  years  of  obhgatory 
service  that  year,  on  the  first  of  January,  he  had  had 
the  cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honour  bestowed  upon 
him,  which,  in  the  semi-military  public  offices,  is  a 
recompense  for  the  long  and  miserable  slavery  —  the 
official  phrase  is,  "loyal  services"  —  of  unfortunate 
convicts  who  are  riveted  to  their  desks.  That  un- 
expected dignity  gave  him  a  high  and  new  idea  of 
his  own  capacities,  and  altogether  altered  him.  He 
immediately  left  off  wearing  hght  trousers  and  fancy 
waistcoats,  and  wore  black  trousers  and  long  coats, 
on  which  his  "ribbon,"  which  was  very  broad, 
showed  off  better.  He  got  shaved  every  morning, 
trimmed  his  nails  more  carefully,  changed  his  hnen 
every  two  days,  from  a  legitimate  sense  of  what  was 


A     FAMILY    AFFAIR 

proper,  and  out  of  respect  for  the  national  Order  of 
which  he  formed  a  part.  In  fact,  from  that  day  he 
was  another  Caravan,  scrupulously  clean,  majestic, 
and  condescending. 

At  home,  he  said,  "my  cross,"  at  every  moment, 
and  he  had  become  so  proud  of  it  that  he  could  not 
bear  to  see  other  men  wearing  any  other  ribbon  in 
their  buttonholes.  He  got  angry  when  he  saw 
strange  orders,  which  "nobody  ought  to  be  allowed 
to  wear  in  France,"  and  he  bore  Chenet  a  particular 
grudge,  as  he  met  him  on  a  tram-car  every  evening, 
wearing  a  decoration  of  some  sort  or  another,  white, 
blue,  orange,  or  green. 

The  conversation  of  the  two  men,  from  the  Arc 
de  Triomphe  to  Neuilly,  was  always  the  same. 
That  day  as  usual,  they  discussed,  first  of  all,  various 
local  abuses,  which  disgusted  them  both,  and  the 
mayor  of  Neuilly  received  his  full  share  of  the  blame. 
Then,  as  invariably  happens  in  the  company  of  a 
medical  man.  Caravan  began  to  enlarge  on  the  sub- 
ject of  illness,  as,  in  that  manner,  he  hoped  to  obtain 
a  little  gratuitous  advice,  or  even  a  consultation 
if  he  were  careful  enough  not  to  give  himself  away. 
His  mother  had  been  causing  him  no  Httle  anxiety 
for  some  time;  she  had  frequent  and  prolonged  faint- 
ing fits,  and,  although  she  was  ninety,  she  would  not 
take  care  of  herself. 

Caravan  grew  quite  tender-hearted  when  he  men- 
tioned her  great  age,  and  more  than  once  asked  Doc- 
tor Chenet,  emphasizing  the  word  "doctor,"  whether 
he  had  often  met  anyone  as  old  as  that.  And  he 
rubbed  his  hands  with  pleasure;  not,  perhaps,  that 
he  cared  very  much  about  seeing  the  good  woman 

C  1593 


A     FAMILY    AFFAIR 

last  forever  here  on  earth,  but  because  the  long  dura- 
tion of  his  mother's  hfe  was,  as  it  were,  an  earnest 
of  old  age  for  himself.     Then  he  continued: 

"  In  my  family,  we  last  long,  and  I  am  sure  that, 
unless  I  meet  with  an  accident,  I  shall  not  die  until 
I  am  very  old." 

The  officer  of  health  looked  at  him  with  pity, 
glancing  for  a  moment  at  his  neighbour's  red  face,  his 
short,  thick  neck,  his  "corporation,"  as  Chenet  called 
it,  that  hung  down  between  two  flaccid,  fat  legs, 
and  the  apoplectic  rotundity  of  the  old,  flabby 
official.  Lifting  the  dirty  Panama  hat  which  he 
wore  from  his  head,  he  said,  with  a  snigger: 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,  old  fellow;  your  mother 
is  as  tough  as  nails,  and  I  should  say  that  your  life 
is  not  a  very  good  one." 

This  rather  upset  Caravan,  who  did  not  speak 
again  until  the  tram  put  them  down  at  their  destina- 
tion. The  two  friends  got  out,  and  Chenet  asked 
his  friend  to  have  a  glass  of  vermouth  at  the  Cafe 
du  Globe,  opposite,  a  place  which  both  of  them  were 
in  the  habit  of  frequenting.  The  proprietor,  who 
was  a  friend  of  theirs,  held  out  two  fmgers  to  them, 
which  they  shook  across  the  bottles  on  the  counter, 
and  then  they  joined  three  of  their  friends',  who  were 
playing  at  dominoes,  and  had  been  there  since  mid- 
day. They  exchanged  cordial  greetings,  with  the 
usual  inquiry:  "Anything  fresh?"  Then  the  three 
players  continued  their  game,  and  held  out  their 
hands  without  looking  up,  when  the  others  wished 
them  "Good  night"  and  went  home  to  dinner. 

Caravan  lived  in  a  small,  two-storied  house  m 
Courbevoie,   near  the  meeting  of  the  roads;    the 

1:160  3 


A     FAMILY    AFFAIR 

ground  floor  was  occupied  by  a  hairdresser.  Two 
bedrooms,  a  dining-room,  and  a  kitchen  where 
mended  chairs  wandered  from  room  to  room,  as 
they  were  wanted,  formed  the  whole  of  their  apart- 
ments, and  Madame  Caravan  spent  nearly  her  whole 
time  in  cleaning  them  up,  while  her  daughter,  Marie- 
Louise,  who  was  twelve,  and  her  son,  Phihppe- 
Auguste,  were  running  about  with  all  the  httle, 
dirty,  mischievous  brats  of  the  neighbourhood,  and 
playing  in  the  gutters. 

Caravan  had  installed  his  mother,  whose  avarice 
was  notorious  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  who  was 
terribly  thin,  in  the  room  above  them.  She  was  al- 
ways in  a  bad  temper  and  never  passed  a  day  with- 
out quarrelhng  and  flying  into  furious  tempers.  She 
used  to  apostrophise  the  neighbours  standing  at  their 
own  doors,  the  vegetable  venders,  the  street-sweep- 
ers, and  the  street-boys,  in  the  most  violent  language. 
The  latter,  to  have  their  revenge,  used  to  follow  her 
at  a  distance  when  she  went  out  and  call  out  rude 
things  after  her. 

A  httle  servant  from  Normandy,  who  was  incred- 
ibly giddy  and  thoughtless,  performed  the  household 
work,  and  slept  on  the  second  floor  in  the  same 
room  as  the  old  woman,  for  fear  of  anything  hap- 
pening to  her  in  the  night. 

When  Caravan  got  in,  his  wife,  who  suff"ered 
from  a  chronic  passion  for  cleaning,  was  polishin.'^ 
up  the  mahogany  chairs,  that  were  scattered  about 
the  room,  with  a  piece  of  flannel.  She  always  wore 
cotton  gloves  and  adorned  her  head  with  a  cap, 
ornamented  with  many  coloured  ribbons,  which  was 
always   tilted   on    one  ear,  and  whenever  anyone 

1:161  3 


A     FAMILY     AFFAIR 

caught  her,  polishing,  sweeping,  or  washing,  she  used 
to  say: 

"I  am  not  rich;  everything  is  very  simple  in  my 
house,  but  cleanhness  is  my  luxury,  and  that  is 
worth  quite  as  much  as  any  other." 

As  she  was  gifted  with  sound,  obstinate,  practical 
common  sense,  she  swayed  her  husband  in  every- 
thing. Every  evening  during  dinner,  and  afterward, 
when  they  were  in  bed,  they  talked  over  the  business 
in  the  office,  and,  although  she  was  twenty  years 
younger,  he  confided  everything  to  her  as  if  she  had 
had  the  direction,  and  followed  her  advice  in  every 
matter. 

She  had  never  been  pretty,  and  now  had  grown 
ugly;  in  addition  to  that,  she  was  short  and  thin, 
while  her  careless  and  tasteless  way  of  dressing  her- 
self hid  the  few,  small  feminine  attributes  which 
might  have  been  brought  out  if  she  had  possessed 
any  skill  in  dress.  Her  petticoats  were  always  awry, 
and  she  frequently  scratched  herself,  no  matter  on 
what  place,  totally  indifferent  as  to  who  might  be 
there,  out  of  a  sort  of  habit  which  had  become  almost 
an  unconscious  movement.  The  only  ornaments 
that  she  allowed  herself  were  silk  ribbons,  which 
she  had  in  great  profusion,  and  of  various  colours 
mixed  together,  in  the  pretentious  caps  which  she 
wore  at  home. 

As  soon  as  she  saw  her  husband  she  got  up,  and 
said,  as  she  kissed  him: 

"Did  you  remember  Potin,  my  dear?  " 

He  fell  into  a  chair,  in  consternation,  for  that  was 
the  fourth  time  he  had  forgotten  a  commission  that 
he  had  promised  to  do  for  her. 

t:i62  3 


A     FAMILY     AFFAIR 

"It  is  a  fatality,"  he  said;  "in  spite  of  my  think- 
ing of  it  all  day  long,  I  am  sure  to  forget  it  in  the 
evening." 

But  as  he  seemed  really  so  very  sorry,  she  merely 
said,  quietly: 

"You  will  think  of  it  to-morrow,  I  daresay.  Any- 
thing fresh  at  the  office?" 

"Yes,  a  great  piece  of  news:  another  tinman  has 
been  appointed  senior  chief  clerk."  She  became 
angry. 

"To  what  department?" 

"The   department   of   Foreign   Supplies." 

"So  he  succeeds  Ramon.  That  was  the  very  post 
that  I  wanted  you  to  have.  And  what  about 
Ramon?" 

"He  retires  on  his  pension." 

She  grew  furious,  her  cap  slid  down  on  her 
shoulder,  and  she  continued: 

"There  is  nothing  more  to  be  done  in  that  hole 
now.  And  what  is  the  name  of  the  new  commis- 
sioner?" 

"Bonassot." 

She  took  up  the  "Naval  Year  Book,"  which  she 
always  kept  close  at  hand,  and  looked  him  up: 

"'Bonassot  —  Toulon.  Born  in  1851.  Student-Com- 
missioner in   1 87 1.     Sub-Commissioner  in   1875.' 

Has  he  been  to  sea?"  she  continued,  and  at  that 
question  Caravan's  looks  cleared  up,  and  he  laughed 
until  his  sides  shook. 

"Just  like  Bahn  —  just  like  Balin,  his  chief." 
Then  he  added  an  old  office  joke,  and  laughed  more 
than  ever: 

1:1633 


A     FAMILY    AFFAIR 

"It  would  not  even  do  to  send  them  by  water  to 
inspect  the  Point-du-Four,  for  they  would  be  sick 
on  the  Seine  steamboats." 

But  she  remained  as  serious  as  if  she  had  not 
heard  him,  and  then  she  said  in  a  low  voice,  while 
she  scratched  her  chin: 

"If  only  we  had  a  deputy  to  fall  back  upon. 
When  the  Chamber  hears  all  that  is  going  on  at  the 
Admiralty,  the  minister  will  be  turned  out  — " 

She  was  interrupted  by  a  terrible  noise  on  the 
stairs.  Marie-Louise  and  Philippe-Auguste,  who 
had  just  come  in  from  the  gutter,  were  giving  each 
other  slaps  all  the  way  upstairs.  Their  mother 
rushed  at  them  furiously,  and  taking  each  of  them 
by  an  arm,  she  dragged  them  into  the  room,  shaking 
them  vigorously.  But  as  soon  as  they  saw  their 
father,  they  rushed  up  to  him.  He  kissed  them 
affectionately,  and  taking  one  of  them  on  each  knee, 
he  began  to  talk  to  them. 

Philippe-Auguste  was  an  ugly,  ill-kempt  little  brat, 
dirty  from  head  to  foot,  with  the  face  of  an  idiot, 
and  Marie-Louise  was  already  hke  her  mother  — 
spoke  hke  her,  repeated  her  words,  and  even  imitated 
her  movements.  She  also  asked  him  whether  there 
was  anything  fresh  at  the  office,  and  he  rephed  mer- 

"Your  friend,  Ramon,  who  comes  and  dines  here 
every  Sunday,  is  going  to  leave  us,  httle  one.  There 
is  a  new  senior  head-clerk." 

She  looked  at  her  father,  and  with  a  precocious 
child's  pity,  she  said: 

"So  somebody  has  been  put  over  your  head 
again!" 

1:1643 


A     FAMILY     AFFAIR 

He  stopped  laughing  and  did  not  reply.  Then, 
in  order  to  create  a  diversion,  he  said,  addressing 
his  wife,  who  was  cleaning  the  windows: 

"How  is  mamma,  up  there?" 

Madame  Caravan  left  off  rubbing,  turned  round, 
pulled  her  cap  up,  as  it  had  fallen  quite  on  to  her 
back,  and  said,  with  trembhng  hps: 

"Ah!  yes;  let  us  talk  about  your  mother.  She 
has  created  a  pretty  scene.  Just  think  that  a  short 
time  ago  Madame  Lebaudin,  the  hairdresser's  wife, 
came  upstairs  to  borrow  a  packet  of  starch  from  me, 
and,  as  I  was  not  at  home,  your  mother  called  her 
a  beggar  woman,  and  turned  her  out;  but  I  gave  it 
to  the  old  woman.  She  pretended  not  to  hear,  as 
she  always  does  when  one  tells  her  unpleasant  truths, 
but  she  is  no  more  deaf  than  I  am,  as  you  know.  It 
is  all  a  sham,  and  the  proof  of  it  is,  that  she  went 
up  to  her  own  room  immediately  without  saying  a 
word." 

Caravan,  taken  aback,  did  not  utter  a  word,  and 
at  that  moment  the  little  servant  came  in  to  an- 
nounce dinner.  In  order  to  let  his  mother  know,  he 
took  a  broom-handle,  which  always  stood  hidden  in  a 
corner,  and  rapped  loudly  on  the  ceiling  three  times, 
and  then  they  went  into  the  dining-room.  Madame 
Caravan,  junior,  helped  the  soup,  and  waited  for  the 
old  woman.  But  she  did  not  come,  and  the  soup 
was  getting  cold,  so  they  began  to  eat  slowly,  and 
when  their  plates  were  empty,  they  waited  again. 
Then  Madame  Caravan,  who  was  furious,  attacked 
her  husband: 

"She  does  it  on  purpose,  you  know  that  as  well 
as  I  do.     But  you  always  uphold  her." 

1:1653 


A     FAMILY    AFFAIR 

In  great  perplexity  between  the  two,  he  sent  up 
Marie-Louise  to  fetch  her  grandmother,  and  sat 
motionless,  with  his  eyes  down,  while  his  wife 
tapped  her  glass  angrily  with  her  knife.  In  about  a 
minute  the  door  flew  open  suddenly,  and  the  child 
came  in  again,  out  of  breath,  and  very  pale,  and 
said  quickly: 

"Grandmamma  has  fallen  down  on  the  ground." 

Caravan  jumped  up,  threw  his  table-napkin  down, 
and  rushed  upstairs,  while  his  wife,  who  thought 
it  was  some  trick  of  her  mother-in-law,  followed 
more  slowly,  shrugging  her  shoulders,  as  if  to  express 
her  doubt.  When  they  got  upstairs,  however,  they 
found  the  old  woman  lying  at  full  length  in  the 
middle  of  the  room,  and  when  they  turned  her  over 
they  saw  that  she  was  insensible  and  motionless. 
Her  skin  looked  more  wrinkled  and  yellow  than 
usual,  her  eyes  were  closed,  her  teeth  clenched,  and 
her  thin  body  was  stiff. 

Caravan  kneeled  down  by  her  and  began  to  moan : 

"My  poor  mother!  my  poor  mother!"  he  said. 
But  the  other  Madame  Caravan  said: 

"Bah!  She  has  only  fainted  again,  that  is  all, 
and  she  has  done  it  to  prevent  us  from  dining  com- 
fortably, you  may  be  sure  of  that." 

They  put  her  on  the  bed,  undressed  her  completely, 
and  Caravan,  his  wife,  and  the  servant  began  to  rub 
her,  but,  in  spite  of  their  eff'orts,  she  did  not  recover 
consciousness,  so  they  sent  Rosalie,  the  servant,  to 
fetch  "Doctor"  Chenet.  He  lived  a  long  way  off, 
on  the  quay  going  toward  Suresnes,  and  so  it  was 
a  considerable  time  before  he  arrived.  He  came 
at  last,  however,  and,  after  having  looked  at  the 

Ci66  3 


A     FAMILY     AFFAIR 

old  woman,  felt  her  pulse,  and  auscultated  her,  he 
said: 

"It  is  all  over." 

Caravan  threw  himself  on  the  body,  sobbing  vio- 
lently. He  kissed  his  mother's  rigid  face,  and  wept 
so  that  great  tears  fell  on  the  dead  woman's  face, 
hke  drops  of  water.  Naturally,  Madame  Caravan, 
junior,  showed  a  decorous  amount  of  grief,  uttered 
feeble  moans  as  she  stood  behind  her  husband,  and 
she  rubbed  her  eyes  vigorously. 

But,  suddenly.  Caravan  raised  himself  up,  with 
his  thin  hair  in  disorder,  and,  looking  very  ugly 
in  his  grief,  said: 

"But,  are  you  sure,  doctor?    Are  you  quite  sure?" 

The  medical  man  stooped  over  the  body,  and, 
handling  it  with  professional  dexterity,  as  a  shop- 
keeper might  do,  when  showing  off  his  goods,  he 
said:    "See,  my  dear  friend,  look  at  her  eye." 

He  raised  the  eyelid  and  the  old  woman's  look 
reappeared  under  his  finger,  altogether  unaltered, 
unless,  perhaps,  the  pupil  was  rather  larger,  and  Car- 
avan felt  a  severe  shock  at  the  sight.  Then  Mon- 
sieur Chenet  took  her  thin  arm,  forced  the  fingers 
open,  and  said,  angrily,  as  if  he  had  been  contra- 
dicted : 

"Just  look  at  her  hand;  I  never  make  a  mistake, 
you  may  be  quite  sure  of  that." 

Caravan  fell  on  the  bed,  and  almost  bellowed, 
while  his  wife,  still  whimpering,  did  what  was  nec- 
essary. 

She  brought  the  night-table,  on  which  she  spread 
a  table-napkin.  Then  she  placed  four  wax  candles 
on  it,  which  she  lighted;    then  took  a  sprig  of  box, 

1:1673 


A     FAMILY    AFFAIR 

which  was  hanging  over  the  chimney  glass,  and  put 
it  between  the  candles,  into  the  plate,  which  she 
filled  with  clean  water,  as  she  had  no  holy  water. 
After  a  moment's  rapid  reflection,  she  threw  a  pinch 
of  salt  into  the  water,  no  doubt  thinking  she  was 
performing  some  sort  of  act  of  consecration  by  doing 
that.  When  she  had  finished  the  setting  which 
is  supposed  to  be  appropriate  to  Death,  she  re- 
mained standing  motionless,  and  the  medical  man, 
who  had  been  helping  her,  whispered  to  her: 

"We  must  take  Caravan  away." 

She  nodded  assent,  and,  going  up  to  her  hus- 
band, who  was  still  on  his  knees,  sobbing,  she  raised 
him  up  by  one  arm,  while  Chenet  took  him  by  the 
other. 

They  put  him  into  a  chair,  and  his  wife  kissed 
his  forehead  and  then  began  to  lecture  him.  Chenet 
enforced  her  words,  and  preached  firmness,  cour- 
age, and  resignation  —  the  very  things  which  are 
always  wanting  in  such  overwhelming  misfortune 
— and  then  both  of  them  took  him  by  the  arms  again 
and  led  him  out. 

He  was  crying  like  a  big  child,  with  convulsive 
sobs;  his  arms  were  hanging  down  and  his  legs 
seemed  useless;  he  went  downstairs  without  know- 
ing what  he  was  doing,  and  moved  his  legs  me- 
chanically. They  put  him  into  the  chair  which  he 
always  occupied  at  dinner,  in  front  of  his  empty 
soup-plate.  And  there  he  sat,  without  moving, 
with  his  eyes  fixed  on  his  glass,  so  stupefied  with 
grief  that  he  could  not  even  think. 

In  a  corner,  Madame  Caravan  was  talking  with 
the    doctor,  and    asking    what    the    necessary   for- 

1:168  n 


A     FAMILY     AFFAIR 

malities  were,  as  she  wanted  to  obtain  practical  in- 
formation. At  last,  Monsieur  Chenet,  who  appeared 
to  be  waiting  for  something,  took  up  his  hat  and  pre- 
pared to  go,  saying  that  he  had  not  dined  yet; 
whereupon  she  exclaimed: 

"What!  You  have  not  dined?  But  stop  here, 
doctor;  don't  go.  You  shall  have  whatever  we  can 
give  you,  for,  of  course,  you  will  understand  that  we 
won't  eat  much."  However,  he  made  excuses 
and  refused,  but  she  persisted,  and  said: 

"You  really  must  stop;  at  times  hke  this  people 
like  to  have  friends  near  them,  and,  besides  that, 
perhaps  you  will  be  able  to  persuade  my  husband 
to  take  some  nourishment;  he  must  keep  up  his 
strength." 

The  doctor  bowed,  and,  putting  down  his  hat, 
said: 

"In  that  case,  I  will  accept  your  invitation,  Ma- 
dame." 

She  gave  Rosahe,  who  seemed  to  have  lost  her 
head,  some  orders,  and  then  sat  down,  "to  pretend 
to  eat,"  as  she  said,  "to  keep  the  'doctor*  com- 
pany." 

The  soup  was  brought  in  again,  and  Monsieur 
Chenet  took  two  helpings.  Then  there  came  a 
dish  of  tripe,  which  exhaled  a  smell  of  onions,  and 
which  Madame  Caravan  made  up  her  mind  to 
taste. 

"It  is  excellent,"  the  doctor  said,  at  which  she 
smiled,  and,  turning  to  her  husband,  she  said: 

"Do  take  a  httle,  my  poor  Alfred,  only  just  to 
get  something  into  your  stomach.  Remember  that 
you  have  got  to  pass  the  night  watching  by  her!" 

1:1693 


A    FAMILY    AFFAIR 

He  held  out  his  plate,  docilely,  just  as  he  would 
have  gone  to  bed  if  he  had  been  told  to,  obeying 
her  in  everything  without  resistance  and  without  re- 
flection, and,  therefore,  he  ate.  The  doctor  helped 
himself  three  times,  while  Madame  Caravan,  from 
time  to  time,  fished  out  a  large  piece  on  the  end 
of  her  fork,  and  swallowed  it  with  a  sort  of  studied 
inattention. 

When  a  salad  bowl  full  of  macaroni  was  brought 
in,  the  doctor  said: 

"By  Jove!  That  is  what  I  am  very  fond  of." 
And  this  time  Madame  Caravan  helped  everybody. 
She  even  filled  the  children's  saucers,  which  they 
had  scraped  clean,  and  who,  being  left  to  them- 
selves, had  been  drinking  wine  without  any  water, 
and  were  now  kicking  each  other  under  the  table. 

Chenet  remembered  that  Rossini,  the  composer, 
had  been  very  fond  of  that  Itahan  dish,  and  sud- 
denly he  exclaimed: 

"Why!  that  rhymes,  and  one  could  begin  some 
Hnes  Hke  this: 

"The  Maestro  Rossini 
Was  fond  of  macaroni." 

Nobody  listened  to  him,  however.  Madame  Car- 
avan, who  had  suddenly  grown  thoughtful,  was 
thinking  of  all  the  probable  consequences  of  the 
event,  while  her  husband  made  bread  pellets,  which 
he  put  on  the  table-cloth,  and  looked  at  with  a  fixed, 
idiotic  stare.  As  he  was  devoured  by  thirst,  he 
was  continually  raising  his  glass  to  his  Hps,  and  the 
consequence  was  that  his  senses,  already  rather  up- 
set by  the  shock  and  grief,  seemed  to  dance  about 

n  1703 


A     FAMILY     AFFAI R 

vaguely  in  his  head,  which  was  heavy  from  the 
laborious  process  of  digestion  which  had  begun. 

Meanwhile,  the  doctor,  who  had  been  drinking 
away  steadily,  was  getting  visibly  drunk,  and  Ma- 
dame Caravan  herself  felt  the  reaction  which  fol- 
lows all  nervous  shocks.  She  was  agitated  and 
excited,  and  although  she  had  been  drinking  noth- 
ing but  water,  she  felt  her  head  rather  confused. 

By  and  by,  Chenet  began  to  relate  stories  of 
deaths,  that  appeared  funny  to  him.  In  the  suburbs 
of  Paris,  which  are  full  of  people  from  the  prov- 
inces, one  meets  with  the  indifference  toward  death, 
even  of  a  father  or  a  mother,  which  all  peasants 
show;  a  want  of  respect,  an  unconscious  callousness 
which  is  common  in  the  country,  and  rare  in  Paris. 
Said  he: 

"Why,  I  was  sent  for  last  week  to  the  Rue  du 
Puteaux,  and  when  I  went,  I  found  the  sick  person 
(and  there  was  the  whole  family  calmly  sitting  near 
the  bed)  finishing  a  bottle  of  liqueur  of  aniseed, 
which  had  been  bought  the  night  before  to  satisfy 
the  dying  man's  fancy." 

But  Madame  Caravan  was  not  listening;  she 
was  continually  thinking  of  the  inheritance,  and 
Caravan  was  incapable  of  understanding  anything. 

Soon  Rosalie  served  coffee,  which  had  been  made 
very  strong,  to  keep  up  their  courage,  and  as  every 
cup  was  well  dosed  with  cognac,  it  made  all  their 
faces  red,  and  confused  their  ideas  still  more.  To 
make  matters  still  worse,  Chenet  suddenly  seized 
the  brandy  bottle  and  poured  out  "a  drop  just  to 
wash  their  mouths  out  with,"  as  he  termed  it,  for 
each  of  them.     Then,  without  speaking  any  more, 

C171: 


A    FAMILY    AFFAIR 

overcome,  in  spite  of  themselves,  by  that  feeling 
of  animal  comfort  which  alcohol  affords  after  din- 
ner, they  slowly  sipped  the  sweet  cognac,  which 
formed  a  yellowish  syrup  at  the  bottom  of  their 
cups. 

The  children  had  gone  to  sleep,  and  Rosahe  car- 
ried them  off  to  bed.  Then,  Caravan,  mechani- 
cally obeying  that  wish  to  forget  oneself  which 
possesses  all  unhappy  persons,  helped  himself  to 
brandy  again  several  times,  and  his  dull  eyes  grew 
bright.  At  last  the  doctor  rose  to  go,  and  seizing 
his  friend's  arm,  he  said: 

"Come  with  me;  a  little  fresh  air  will  do  you 
good.  When  you  are  in  trouble,  you  must  not 
stick  to  one  spot." 

The  other  obeyed  mechanically,  put  on  his  hat, 
took  his  stick,  and  went  out,  and  both  of  them 
went  arm-in-arm  toward  the  Seine,  in  the  starlight 
night. 

The  air  was  warm  and  sweet,  for  all  the  gardens 
in  the  neighbourhood  are  full  of  flowers  at  that 
season  of  the  year,  and  their  scent,  which  is  scarcely 
perceptible  during  the  day,  seems  to  awaken  at  the 
approach  of  night,  and  mingles  with  the  hght 
breezes  which  blow  upon  them  in  the  darkness. 

The  broad  avenue,  with  its  two  rows  of  gas- 
lamps,  which  extend  as  far  as  the  Arc  de  Triomphe, 
was  deserted  and  silent,  but  there  was  the  distant 
roar  of  Paris,  which  seemed  to  have  a  reddish  va- 
pour hanging  over  it.  It  was  a  kind  of  continual 
rumbling,  which  was  at  times  answered  by  the 
whistle  of  a  train  at  full  speed,  in  the  distance, 
travelling  to  the  ocean  through  the  provinces. 

1:172: 


A     FAMILY     AFFAI R 

The  fresh  air  on  the  faces  of  the  two  men  rather 
overcame  them  at  first,  made  the  doctor  lose  his 
equilibrium  a  Httle,  and  increased  Caravan's  gid- 
diness, from  which  he  had  suffered  since  dinner. 
He  walked  as  if  he  were  in  a  dream;  his  thoughts 
were  paralysed;  although  he  felt  no  great  grief,  for  he 
was  in  a  state  of  mental  torpor  that  prevented  him 
from  suffering,  and  he  even  felt  a  sense  of  relief  which 
was  increased  by  the  warm  scent  of  the  night. 

When  they  reached  the  bridge,  they  turned  to 
the  right  and  faced  the  fresh  breeze  from  the  river, 
which  rolled  along,  calm  and  melancholy,  bordered 
by  tall  poplar-trees.  The  stars  looked  as  if  they 
were  floating  on  the  water  and  were  moving  with 
the  current.  A  slight,  white  mist  that  floated  over 
the  opposite  banks  filled  their  lungs  with  a  sensa- 
tion of  cold,  and  Caravan  stopped  suddenly,  for 
he  was  struck  by  that  smell  from  the  water,  which 
brought  back  old  memories  to  his  mind.  For  sud- 
denly, in  his  mind,  he  saw  his  mother  again,  in 
Picardy,  as  he  had  seen  her  years  before,  kneeling 
in  front  of  their  door  and  washing  the  heaps  of 
hnen,  by  her  side,  in  the  little  stream  that  ran 
through  their  garden.  He  almost  fancied  that  he 
could  hear  the  sound  of  the  wooden  beetle  with 
which  she  beat  the  linen,  in  the  calm  silence  of 
the  country,  and  her  voice,  as  she  called  out  to 
him:  "Alfred,  bring  me  some  soap."  And  he 
smelled  the  odour  of  the  trickling  water,  of  the  mist 
rising  from  the  wet  ground,  of  the  heap  of  wet 
linen  which  he  should  never  forget,  the  less  that 
it  came  back  to  him  on  the  very  evening  on  which 
his  mother  died. 

1:1733 


A     FAMILY     AFFAIR 

He  stopped,  paralysed  by  a  sudden  feeling  of 
anguish.  It  was  like  a  beam  of  light  illuminating 
all  at  once  the  whole  extent  of  his  misfortune,  and 
this  meeting  with  vagrant  thoughts  plunged  him 
into  a  black  abyss  of  irremediable  despair.  He 
felt  heartbroken  at  that  eternal  separation.  His 
hfe  seemed  cut  in  half,  all  his  youth  gone,  swal- 
lowed up  by  that  death.  All  the  former  life  was 
over  and  done  with,  all  the  recollections  of  his 
youthful  days  would  vanish;  for  the  future,  there 
would  be  nobody  to  talk  to  him  of  what  had  hap- 
pened in  days  gone  by,  of  the  people  he  had  known 
of  old,  of  his  own  part  of  the  country,  and  of  his 
past  life;  that  was  a  part  of  his  existence  which 
was  gone  forever,  and  the  other  might  as  well 
end  now. 

Then  the  procession  of  memories  came.  He  saw 
his  mother  as  she  was  when  younger,  wearing  well- 
worn  dresses,  which  he  remembered  for  such  a  long 
time  that  they  seemed  inseparable  from  her.  He 
recollected  her  in  various  forgotten  circumstances, 
her  suppressed  appearance,  the  different  tones  of 
her  voice,  her  habits,  her  manias,  her  fits  of  anger, 
the  wrinkles  on  her  face,  the  movements  of  her  thin 
fingers,  and  all  her  well-known  attitudes,  which  she 
would  never  have  again,  and  clutching  hold  of  the 
doctor,  he  began  to  moan  and  weep.  His  flabby 
legs  began  to  tremble,  his  whole  stout  body  was 
shaken  by  his  sobs,  all  he  could  say  was: 

"My  mother,  my  poor  mother,  my  poor 
mother!" 

But  his  companion,  who  was  still  drunk,  and 
who  intended  to  finish  the  evening  in  certain  places 

C  1743 


A     FAMILY     AFFAIR 

of  bad  repute  that  he  frequented  secretly,  made 
him  sit  down  on  the  grass  by  the  riverside,  and 
left  him  almost  immediately,  under  the  pretext 
that  he  had  to  see  a  patient. 

Caravan  went  on  crying  for  a  long  time,  and 
then,  when  he  had  got  to  the  end  of  his  tears  — 
when  his  grief  had,  so  to  speak,  run  out  of  him  — 
he  again  felt  relief,  repose,  and  sudden  tranquil- 
Hty. 

The  moon  had  risen  and  bathed  the  horizon 
in  its  soft  hght.  The  tall  poplar-trees  had  a  silvery 
sheen  on  them,  and  the  mist  on  the  plain  looked 
hke  floating  snow.  The  river,  in  which  the  stars 
were  no  longer  reflected,  and  which  looked  as  if  it 
were  covered  with  mother-of-pearl,  flowed  on,  rip- 
pled by  the  wind.  The  air  was  soft  and  sweet,  and 
Caravan  inhaled  it  almost  greedily,  thinking  that 
he  could  perceive  a  feeling  of  freshness,  of  calm  and 
of  superhuman  consolation  pervading  him. 

He  really  tried  to  resist  that  feeling  of  comfort 
and  relief,  and  kept  on  saying  to  himself:  "My 
mother,  my  poor  mother!"  He  tried  to  make  him- 
self cry,  from  a  kind  of  conscientious  feeling,  but 
he  could  not  succeed  in  doing  so  any  longer,  and 
the  sad  thoughts  which  had  made  him  sob  so  bit- 
terly a  short  time  before  had  almost  passed  away. 
In  a  few  moments  he  rose  to  go  home,  and  re- 
turned slowly,  under  the  influence  of  that  serene 
night,  with  a  heart  soothed  in  spite  of  himself. 

When  he  reached  the  bridge,  he  saw  the  last 
tram-car,  ready  to  start,  and  the  lights  through 
the  windows  of  the  Cafe  du  Globe,  and  felt  a  long- 
ing to  tell  somebody  of  the  catastrophe  that  had 

I  175  H 


A     FAM I LY    AFFAIR 

happened,  to  excite  pity,  to  make  himself  inter- 
esting. He  put  on  a  woeful  face,  pushed  open  the 
door,  and  went  up  to  the  counter,  where  the  land- 
lord always  stood.  He  had  counted  on  creating  an 
effect,  and  had  hoped  that  everybody  would  get  up 
and  come  to  him  with  outstretched  hands,  and  say: 
"Why,  what  is  the  matter  with  you?"  But  no- 
body noticed  his  disconsolate  face,  so  he  rested  his 
two  elbows  on  the  counter,  and,  burying  his  face 
in  his  hands,  he  murmured:  "Good  heavens! 
Good  heavens!" 

The  landlord  looked  at  him  and  said:  "Are  you 
ill.  Monsieur  Caravan?" 

"No,  my  friend,"  he  replied,  "but  my  mother  has 
just  died." 

"Ah!"  the  other  exclaimed,  and  as  a  customer 
at  the  other  end  of  the  establishment  asked  for  a 
glass  of  beer,  he  replied:  "All  right,  I'm  coming," 
and  he  went  to  attend  to  him,  leaving  Caravan  al- 
most stupefied  at  his  want  of  sympathy. 

The  three  domino  players  were  sitting  at  the 
same  table  which  they  had  occupied  before  dinner, 
totally  absorbed  in  their  game,  and  Caravan  went 
up  to  them,  in  search  of  pity,  but  as  none  of  them 
appeared  to  notice  him,  he  made  up  his  mind  to 
speak. 

"A  great  misfortune  has  happened  to  me  since 
I  was  here,"  he  said. 

All  three  raised  their  heads  slightly  at  the  same 
instant,  but  kept  their  eyes  fixed  on  the  pieces 
which  they  held  in  their  hands. 

"What  do  you  say?" 

"My  mother  has  just  died." 

11761 


A     FAMILY    AFFAIR 

Whereupon  one  of  them  said:  "Oh!  By  Jove!" 
with  that  false  air  of  sorrow  which  indifferent 
people  assume.  Another,  who  could  not  fmd  any- 
thing to  say,  emitted  a  sort  of  sympathetic  whistle, 
shaking  his  head  at  the  same  time,  and  the  third 
turned  to  the  game  again,  as  if  he  were  saying  to 
himself:    "Is  that  all!" 

Caravan  had  expected  some  of  those  expressions 
that  are  said  to  "come  from  the  heart,"  and 
when  he  saw  how  his  news  was  received  he  left 
the  table,  indignant  at  their  calmness  before  a 
friend's  sorrow,  although  at  that  moment  he  was 
so  dazed  with  grief  that  he  hardly  felt  it,  and 
went  home. 

His  wife  was  waiting  for  him  in  her  nightgown, 
sitting  in  a  low  chair  by  the  open  window,  still 
thinking  of  the  inheritance. 

"Undress  yourself,"  she  said;  "we  will  talk  when 
we  are  in  bed." 

He  raised  his  head,  and  looking  at  the  ceihng, 
he  said: 

"But  there  is  nobody  up  there." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Rosalie  is  with  her,  and  you 
can  go  and  take  her  place  at  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  when  you  have  had  some  sleep." 

He  only  partially  undressed,  however,  so  as  to  be 
ready  for  anything  that  might  happen,  and  after 
tying  a  silk  handkerchief  round  his  head,  he  joined 
his  wife,  who  had  just  got  in  between  the  sheets. 
For  some  time  they  remained  side  by  side,  and 
neither  of  them  spoke.     She  was  thinking. 

Even  in  bed,  her  nightcap  was  adorned  with  a 
pink  bow,  and  was  pushed  rather  over  one  ear,  as 

C  1773 


A     FAMILY     AFFAIR 

was  the  way  with  all  the  caps  that  she  wore.  Pres- 
ently, she  turned  toward  him  and  said: 

"Do  you  know  whether  your  mother  made  a 
will?" 

He  hesitated  for  a  moment,  and  then  replied: 

"I  —  I  do  not  think  so.  No,  I  am  sure  that  she 
did  not." 

His  wife  looked  at  him,  and  she  said,  in  a  low, 
furious  voice: 

"I  call  that  infamous;  here  we  have  been  wear- 
ing ourselves  out  for  ten  years  in  looking  after  her, 
and  have  boarded  and  lodged  her!  Your  sister 
would  not  have  done  so  much  for  her,  nor  I  either, 
if  I  had  known  how  I  was  to  be  rewarded!  Yes, 
it  is  a  disgrace  to  her  memory!  I  daresay  that 
you  will  tell  me  that  she  paid  us,  but  one  cannot 
pay  one's  children  in  ready  money  for  what  they 
do;  that  obligation  is  recognized  after  death;  at 
any  rate,  that  is  how  honourable  people  act.  So  I 
have  had  all  my  worry  and  trouble  for  nothing! 
Oh,  that  is  nice!  that  is  very  nice!" 

Poor  Caravan,  who  felt  nearly  distracted,  kept  on 
saying: 

"My  dear,  my  dear,  please,  please  be  quiet." 

She  grew  calmer  by  degrees,  and,  resuming  her 
usual  voice  and  manner,  she  continued: 

"We  must  let  your  sister  know  to-morrow." 

He  started,  and  said: 

"Of  course  we  must;  I  had  forgotten  all  about 
it;  I  will  send  her  a  telegram  the  first  thing  in  the 
morning." 

"No,"  she  repHed,  hke  a  woman  who  has  fore- 
seen everything;    "no,  do  not  send  it  before  ten  or 


A     FAMILY     AFFAIR 

eleven  o'clock,  so  that  we  may  have  time  to  turn 
round  before  she  comes.  It  does  not  take  more 
than  two  hours  to  get  here  from  Charenton,  and 
we  can  say  that  you  lost  your  head  from  grief. 
If  we  let  her  know  in  the  course  of  the  day,  that 
will  be  soon  enough,  and  will  give  us  time  to  look 
round." 

But  Caravan  put  his  hand  to  his  forehead,  and 
in  the  same  timid  voice  in  which  he  always  spoke 
of  his  chief,  the  very  thought  of  whom  made  him 
tremble,  he  said: 

"I  must  let  them  know  at  the  office." 

"Why?"  she  replied.  "On  such  occasions  Hke 
this,  it  is  always  excusable  to  forget.  Take  my  ad- 
vice, and  don't  let  him  know;  your  chief  will  not 
be  able  to  say  anything  to  you,  and  you  will  put 
him  into  a  nice  fix." 

"Oh!  yes,  I  shall,  indeed,  and  he  will  be  in  a  ter- 
rible rage,  too,  when  he  notices  my  absence.  Yes, 
you  are  right;  it  is  a  capital  idea,  and  when  I  tell 
him  that  my  mother  is  dead,  he  will  be  obliged  to 
hold  his  tongue." 

And  he  rubbed  his  hands  in  delight  at  the  joke, 
when  he  thought  of  his  chief's  face;  while  the  body 
of  the  dead  old  woman  lay  upstairs,  beside  the 
sleeping  servant. 

But  Madame  Caravan  grew  thoughtful,  as  if  she 
were  preoccupied  by  something  which  she  did  not 
care  to  mention.     But  at  last  she  said: 

"Your  mother  had  given  you  her  clock,  had  she 
not;   the  girl  playing  at  cup  and  ball?" 

He  thought  for  a  moment,  and  then  replied: 

"Yes,  yes;   she  said  to  me  a  long  time  ago,  when 

C  1793 


A     FAMILY    AFFAIR 

she  first  came  here :  *  I  shall  leave  the  clock  to  you, 
if  you  look  after  me  well.'" 

Madame  Caravan  was  reassured,  and  regained 
her  serenity,  and  said: 

"Well,  then,  you  must  go  and  fetch  it  out  of  her 
room,  for  if  we  get  your  sister  here,  she  will  pre- 
vent us  from  having  it." 

He  hesitated:  "Do  you  think  so?"  That  made 
her  angry. 

"I  certainly  think  so;  as  soon  as  it  is  in  our  pos- 
session, she  will  know  nothing  at  all  about  where  it 
came  from;  it  belongs  to  us.  It  is  just  the  same 
with  the  chest  of  drawers  with  the  marble  top  that 
is  in  her  room;  she  gave  it  to  me  one  day  when  she 
was  in  a  good  temper.  We  will  bring  it  down  at 
the  same  time." 

Caravan,  however,  seemed  incredulous,  and  said: 

"But,  my  dear,  it  is  a  great  responsibihty!" 

She  turned  on  him  furiously. 

"Oh!  Indeed!  Will  you  never  alter?  You 
would  let  your  children  die  of  hunger,  rather  than 
make  a  move.  Does  not  that  chest  of  drawers  be- 
long to  us,  since  she  gave  it  to  me?  And  if  your 
sister  is  not  satisfied,  let  her  tell  me  so,  me!  I  don't 
care  a  straw  for  your  sister.  Come,  get  up,  and 
we  will  bring  down  what  your  mother  gave  us, 
immediately." 

Trembfing  and  vanquished,  he  got  out  of  bed, 
and  began  to  put  on  his  trousers,  but  she  stopped 
him: 

"It  is  not  worth  while  to  dress  yourself;  your 
underclothes  are  quite  enough;  I  mean  to  go  as 
I  am." 

CiSo^ 


A     FAMILY    AFFAIR 

They  both  left  the  room  in  their  nightclothes, 
went  upstairs  quite  noiselessly,  opened  the  door, 
and  went  into  the  room  where  the  four  hghted 
tapers  and  the  plate  with  the  sprig  of  box  alone 
seemed  to  be  watching  the  old  woman  in  her  rigid 
repose;  for  Rosahe,  who  was  lying  back  in  the  easy- 
chair  with  her  legs  stretched  out,  her  hands  folded 
in  her  lap,  and  her  head  on  one  side,  was  also  quite 
motionless,  and  snoring  with  her  mouth  wide  open. 

Caravan  took  the  clock,  which  was  one  of  those 
grotesque  objects  that  were  produced  so  plentifully 
under  the  Empire.  A  girl  in  gilt  bronze  was  holding 
a  cup  and  ball,  and  the  ball  formed  the  pendulum. 

"Give  that  to  me,"  his  wife  said,  "and  take  the 
marble  top  off  the  chest  of  drawers." 

He  put  the  marble  on  his  shoulder  with  a  con- 
siderable effort,  and  they  left  the  room.  Caravan 
had  to  stoop  in  the  doorway,  and  trembled  as  he 
went  downstairs,  while  his  wife  walked  backward, 
so  as  to  light  him,  holding  the  candlestick  in  one 
hand  and  the  clock  under  her  other  arm. 

When  they  were  in  their  own  room,  she  heaved 
a  sigh. 

"We  have  got  over  the  worst  part  of  the  job," 
she  said;  "so  now  let  us  go  and  fetch  the  other 
things." 

But  the  drawers  were  full  of  the  old  woman's 
wearing  apparel  which  they  must  manage  to  hide 
somewhere,  and  Madame  Caravan  soon  thought  of  a 
plan. 

"Go  and  get  that  wooden  box  in  the  passage; 
it  is  hardly  worth  anything  and  we  may  just  as  well 
put  it  here." 


A     FAMILY     AFFAIR 

And  when  he  had  brought  it  upstairs,  the  change 
began.  One  by  one,  she  took  out  all  the  collars, 
cuffs,  chemises,  caps,  all  the  well-worn  things  that 
had  belonged  to  the  poor  woman  lying  there  behind 
them,  and  arranged  them  methodically  in  the 
wooden  box,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  deceive  Madame 
Braux,  the  deceased  woman's  other  child,  who 
would  be  coming  the  next  day. 

When  they  had  finished,  they  first  of  all  carried 
the  drawers  downstairs,  and  the  remaining  por- 
tion afterward,  each  of  them  holding  an  end.  It 
was  some  time  before  they  could  make  up  their 
minds  where  it  would  stand  best;  but  at  last  they 
settled  upon  their  own  room,  opposite  the  bed, 
between  the  two  windows.  As  soon  as  it  was  in 
its  place,  Madame  Caravan  filled  it  with  her  own 
things.  The  clock  was  placed  on  the  chimney- 
piece  in  the  dining-room.  They  looked  to  see  what 
the  effect  was,  and  were  both  delighted  with  it, 
agreeing  that  nothing  could  be  better.  Then  they 
got  into  bed,  she  blew  out  the  candle,  and  soon 
everybody  in  the  house  was  asleep. 

It  was  broad  daylight  when  Caravan  opened  his 
eyes  again.  His  mind  was  rather  confused  when  he 
woke  up,  and  he  did  not  clearly  remember  what  had 
happened  for  a  few  minutes;  when  he  did,  he  felt  it 
painfully,  and  jumped  out  of  bed,  almost  ready  to 
cry  again. 

He  very  soon  went  to  the  room  overhead,  where 
Rosalie  was  still  sleeping  in  the  same  position  as 
the  night  before,  for  she  did  not  wake  up  once 
during  the  whole  time.  He  sent  her  to  do  her  work, 
put   fresh   tapers   in   the   place   of  those   that   had 

1:1823 


A    FAMILY    AFFAIR 

burned  out,  and  then  he  looked  at  his  mother, 
revolving  in  his  mind  those  apparently  profound 
thoughts,  those  religious  and  philosophical  common- 
places, which  trouble  people  of  mediocre  minds  in 
the  face  of  death. 

But  he  went  downstairs  as  soon  as  his  wife  called 
him.  She  had  written  out  a  Hst  of  what  had  to  be 
done  during  the  morning,  which  rather  frightened 
him  when  he  saw  it. 

1.  Lodge  a  declaration  of  death  at  the  Town  Hall. 

2.  See  the  coroner. 

3.  Order  the  coffin. 

4.  Give  notice  to  the  church. 

5.  Go  to  the  undertaker. 

6.  Order  the  notices  of  her  death  at  the  printer's. 

7.  Go  to  the  lawyer. 

8.  Telegraph  the  news  to  all  the  family. 
Besides   all  this,  there  were  a  number  of  small 

commissions;  so  he  took  his  hat  and  went  out. 
As  the  news  had  got  abroad,  Madame  Caravan's 
female  friends  and  neighbours  soon  began  to  come  in, 
and  begged  to  be  allowed  to  see  the  body.  There 
had  been  a  scene  at  the  hairdresser's,  on  the  ground 
floor,  about  the  matter,  between  husband  and  wife, 
while  he  was  shaving  a  customer.  While  busily 
knitting  the  woman  had  said:  "Well,  there  is  one 
less,  and  one  as  great  a  miser  as  one  ever  meets 
with.  I  certainly  was  not  very  fond  of  her;  but, 
nevertheless,  I  must  go  and  have  a  look  at  her." 

The  husband,  while  lathering  his  customer's  chin, 
said: 

"That  is  another  queer  fancy!  Nobody  but  a 
woman  would  think  of  such  a  thing.      It  is   not 

ni83  3 


A    FAMILY    AFFAIR 

enough  for  them  to  worry  you  during  life,  but  they 
cannot  even  leave  you  in  peace  when  you  are  dead." 

But  his  wife,  not  put  out  in  the  least,  rephed: 
"I  can't  help  it;  I  must  go.  It  has  been  on  me  since 
the  morning.  If  I  were  not  to  see  her,  I  should  think 
about  it  all  my  hfe,  but  when  I  have  had  a  good 
look  at  her,   I  shall  be  satisfied." 

The  knight  of  the  razor  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
and  remarked  in  a  low  voice  to  the  gentleman  whose 
cheek  he  was  scraping: 

"Now,  what  sort  of  ideas  do  you  think  these  con- 
founded females  have?  I  should  not  amuse  myself 
by  inspecting  a  corpse!" 

But  his  wife  heard  him,  and  replied  very  quietly: 

"But  I  do,  I  do."  And  then,  putting  her  knitting 
down  on  the  counter,  she  went  upstairs,  to  the 
first  floor,  where  she  met  two  other  neighbours. 
These  had  just  come,  and  were  discussing  the  event 
with  Madame  Caravan,  who  was  giving  them  the 
details.  Then  the  four  went  together  to  the  mor- 
tuary chamber.  The  women  went  in  softly,  and, 
one  after  the  other,  sprinkled  the  bedclothes  with 
the  salted  water,  kneeled  down,  made  the  sign  of 
the  cross  while  they  mumbled  a  prayer,  then  got 
up,  and,  open-mouthed,  regarded  the  corpse  for 
a  long  time,  while  the  daughter-in-law  of  the  dead 
woman,  with  her  handkerchief  to  her  face,  pre- 
tended to  be  sobbing  piteously. 

When  she  turned  to  walk  away,  whom  should 
she  perceive  standing  close  to  the  door  but  Marie- 
Louise  and  Philippe-Auguste,  who  were  curiously 
taking  stock  of  things.  Then,  forgetting  to  control 
her  temper,  she  threw  herself  upon  them  with  up- 

1:1843 


A     FAM ILY     AFFAIR 

lifted  hand,  crying  out  in  a  furious  voice:  "Will 
you  get  out  of  this,  you  brats." 

Ten  minutes  later,  going  upstairs  again  with  an- 
other contingent  of  neighbours,  she  prayed,  wept 
profusely,  performed  all  her  duties,  and  again  caught 
the  children  following  her  upstairs.  She  boxed 
their  ears  soundly,  but  the  next  time  she  paid  no 
heed  to  them,  and  at  each  fresh  influx  of  visitors 
the  two  urchins  followed  in  the  wake,  crowded 
themselves  up  in  a  corner,  slavishly  imitating 
everything  they  saw  their  mother  do. 

When  afternoon  came  round  the  crowds  of  curi- 
ous people  began  to  diminish,  and  soon  there  were 
no  more  visitors.  Madame  Caravan,  returning  to 
her  own  apartments,  began  to  make  the  necessary 
preparations  for  the  funeral  ceremony,  and  the 
deceased  was  left  by  herself. 

The  window  of  the  room  was  open.  A  torrid 
heat  entered  along  with  clouds  of  dust;  the  flames 
of  the  four  candles  were  flickering  in  the  direction 
of  the  corpse,  and  upon  the  cloth  which  covered 
the  face,  the  closed  eyes,  the  two  hands  stretched 
out,  small  flies  alighted,  came,  went,  and  buzzed  up 
and  down  incessantly,  being  the  only  companions 
of  the  old  woman  during  the  next  hour. 

Marie-Louise  and  Philippe-Auguste,  however, 
had  now  left  the  house,  and  were  running  up  and 
down  the  street.  They  were  soon  surrounded  by 
their  playmates,  and  by  little  girls,  especially,  who 
were  older,  and  who  were  interested  in  the  mys- 
teries of  life,  and  asked  questions  in  the  manner  of 
persons  of  great  importance. 

"Then  your  grandmother  is  dead?" 

1:1853 


A    FAMILY    AFFAIR 

"Yes,  she  died  yesterday  evening." 
"What  does  a  dead  person  look  like?" 
Then  Marie  began  to  explain,  telling  all  about 
the  candles,  the  sprig  of  box  and  the  cadaverous  face. 
It  was  not  long  before  great  curiosity  was  aroused 
in  the  breasts  of  all  the  children,  and  they  asked  to 
be  allowed  to  go  upstairs  to  look  at  the  departed. 
Then  Marie-Louise  arranged  a  party  for  the  first 
visit,    consisting  of  five  girls  and  two  boys  —  the 
biggest  and  the  most  courageous.      She  made  them 
take  off  their  shoes  so  that  they  might  not  be  dis- 
covered.   The    troop    filed    into    the    house    and 
mounted  the  stairs  as  stealthily  as  an  army  of  mice. 
Once   in   the   chamber,   the   little   girl,   imitating 
her  mother,  regulated  the  ceremony.     She  solemnly 
walked  in  advance  of  her  comrades,  went  down  on 
her  knees,  made  the  sign  of  the  cross,  moistened  the 
lips  of  the  corpse  with  a  few  drops  of  water,  stood 
up  again,  sprinkled  the  bed,  and  while  the  children 
all  crowded  together  were  approaching  —  frightened 
and  curious,  and  eager  to  look  at  the  face  and  hands 
of  the  deceased  —  she  began  suddenly  to  simulate 
sobbing,  and  to  bury  her  eyes  in  her  little  hand- 
kerchief.    Then,  instantly  consoled  on  thinking  of 
the  other  children  downstairs  waiting  at  the  door, 
she  withdrew  in  haste,  returning  in  a  minute  with 
another  group,  and  then  a  third;    for  all  the  little 
ruffians   of   the    neighbourhood,  even  to  the  little 
beggars  in  rags,  had  congregated  in  order  to  par- 
ticipate in  this  new  pleasure.     Each  time  she  re- 
peated  her   mother's   grimaces  with   absolute  per- 
fection. 

At  length,  however,  she  tired  of  it.     Some  game 

1:186  3 


A    FAMILY    AFFAIR 

or  another  attracted  the  children  away  from  the 
house,  and  the  old  grandmother  was  left  alone,  for- 
gotten suddenly  by  everybody. 

A  dismal  gloom  pervaded  the  chamber,  and 
upon  the  dry  and  rigid  features  of  the  corpse  the 
dying  flames  of  the  candles  cast  occasional  gleams 
of  hght. 

Toward  eight  o'clock,  Caravan  ascended  to  the 
chamber  of  death,  closed  the  windows,  and  renewed 
the  candles.  On  entering  now  he  was  quite  com- 
posed, evidently  accustomed  to  regard  the  corpse  as 
though  it  had  been  there  for  a  month.  He  even 
went  the  length  of  declaring  that,  as  yet,  there 
were  no  signs  of  decomposition,  making  this  remark 
just  at  the  moment  when  he  and  his  wife  were 
about  to  sit  down  at  table.  "Pshaw!"  she  re- 
sponded, "she  is  made  of  wood;  she  will  keep  for 
a  year." 

The  soup  was  eaten  without  a  word  being  uttered 
by  anyone.  The  children,  who  had  been  free  all 
day,  were  now  worn  out  by  fatigue  and  were  sleeping 
soundly  in  their  chairs,  and  nobody  ventured  to 
break  the  silence. 

Suddenly  the  flame  of  the  lamp  went  down. 
Madame  Caravan  immediately  turned  up  the  wick, 
a  prolonged,  gurgling  noise  ensued,  and  the  light 
went  out.  She  had  forgotten  to  buy  oil  during  the 
day.  To  send  for  it  now  to  the  grocer's  would  keep 
back  the  dinner,  and  everybody  began  to  look  for 
candies.  But  none  were  to  be  found  except  the 
night  lights  which  had  been  placed  upon  the  table 
upstairs,  in  the  death-chamber. 

Madame  Caravan,  always  prompt  in  her  de- 
ll 187  3 


A    FAMILY    AFFAIR 

cisions,  quickly  dispatched  Marie-Louise  to  fetch 
two,  and  her  return  was  awaited  in  total  darkness. 

The  footsteps  of  the  girl  who  had  ascended  the 
stairs  were  distinctly  heard.  Then  followed  silence 
for  a  few  seconds,  and  then  the  child  descended  pre- 
cipitately. She  threw  open  the  door  affrighted, 
and  in  a  choked  voice  murmured:  "Oh!  papa, 
grandmamma  is  dressing  herself!" 

Caravan  bounded  to  his  feet  with  such  pre- 
cipitation that  his  chair  rolled  over  against  another 
chair.  He  stammered  out:  "What!  What  do  you 
say? 

But  Marie-Louise,  gasping  with  emotion,  re- 
peated: "Grand  —  grand  —  grandmamma  is  put- 
ting  on   her   clothes,   and   is   coming   downstairs." 

Caravan  rushed  boldly  up  the  staircase,  followed 
by  his  wife,  dumbfounded;  but  he  came  to  a  stand- 
still before  the  door  of  the  room,  overcome  with  ter- 
ror, not  daring  to  enter.  What  was  he  going  to  see? 
Madame  Caravan,  more  courageous,  turned  the 
handle  of  the  door  and  stepped  forward  into  the 
room. 

The  room  seemed  to  be  darker,  and  in  the  middle 
of  it,  a  tall  emaciated  figure  moved  about.  The 
old  woman  stood  upright,  and  in  awakening  from 
her  lethargic  sleep,  before  even  full  consciousness 
had  returned  to  her,  in  turning  upon  her  side  and 
raising  herself  on  her  elbow,  she  had  extinguished 
three  of  the  candles  which  burned  near  the  mor- 
tuary bed.  Then,  recovering  her  strength,  she 
got  out  of  bed  and  began  to  look  for  her  things. 
The  absence  of  her  chest  of  drawers  had  at  first 
given  her  some  trouble,  but,  after  a  little,  she  had 


A     FAMILY    AFFAIR 

succeeded  in  finding  her  things  at  the  bottom  of 
the  wooden  trunk,  and  was  now  quietly  dressing. 
She  emptied  the  dishful  of  salted  water,  replaced 
the  box  which  contained  the  latter  behind  the 
looking-glass,  arranged  the  chairs  in  their  places^ 
and  was  ready  to  go  downstairs  when  her  son  and 
daughter-in-law  appeared. 

Caravan  rushed  forward,  seized  her  by  the  hands, 
and  embraced  her  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  while  his 
wife,  who  was  behind  him,  repeated  in  a  hypo- 
critical tone  of  voice:  "Oh,  what  a  blessing!  Oh, 
what  a  blessing!" 

But  the  old  woman,  not  at  all  moved,  without 
even  appearing  to  understand,  as  rigid  as  a  statue, 
and  with  glazed  eyes,  simply  asked:  "Will  dinner 
soon  be  ready?" 

He  stammered  out,  not  knowing  what  he  said: 

"Oh,    yes,    mother,    we    have    been    waiting   for 

you." 

And  with  an  alacrity  unusual  in  him  he  took 
her  arm,  while  Madame  Caravan  the  younger 
seized  the  candle  and  lighted  them  downstairs, 
walking  backward  in  front  of  them,  step  by  step, 
just  as  she  had  done  the  previous  night,  in  front  of 
her  husband,  when  he  was  carrying  the  marble. 

On  reaching  the  first  floor,  she  ran  against  people 
who  were  ascending.  It  was  the  family  from 
Charenton,  Madame  Braux,  followed  by  her  hus- 
band. 

The  wife,  tall  and  fleshy,  with  the  stomach  of 
a  victim  of  dropsy,  opened  wide  her  astonished  eyes, 
ready  to  take  flight.  The  husband,  a  shoemaker 
and  sociahst,  a  little  hairy  man,  the  perfect  image 

1:1893 


A     FAMILY     AFFAIR 

of  a  monkey,  murmured,  quite  unconcerned:  "Well, 
what  next?     Is  she  resurrected?" 

As  soon  as  Madame  Caravan  recognized  them, 
she  made  despairing  signs  to  them;  then  speaking 
aloud,  she  said:  "Mercy!  How  do  you  mean! 
Look  there!     What  a  happy  surprise!" 

But  Madame  Braux,  dumbfounded,  understood 
nothing.  She  responded  in  a  low  voice:  "It  was 
your  telegram  which  made  us  come;  we  beheved 
it  was  all  over." 

Her  husband,  who  was  behind  her,  pinched  her 
to  make  her  keep  silent.  He  added  with  a  mahg- 
nant  laugh,  which  his  thick  beard  concealed:  "It 
was  very  kind  of  you  to  invite  us  here.  We  set  out 
in  post-haste"  —  a  remark  which  showed  clearly 
the  hostility  that  for  a  long  time  had  reigned  be- 
tween the  households.  Then,  just  as  the  old  woman 
had  arrived  at  the  last  steps,  he  pushed  forward 
quickly  and  rubbed  against  her  cheeks  the  hair 
which  covered  his  face,  bawling  out  in  her  ear,  on 
account  of  her  deafness:  "How  well  you  look, 
mother;    sturdy  as  usual,  hey!" 

Madame  Braux,  in  her  amazement  at  seeing  the 
old  woman  alive  whom  they  all  believed  to  be  dead, 
dared  not  even  embrace  her;  and  her  enormous 
bulk  blocked  up  the  passage  and  hindered  the  others 
from  advancing.  The  old  woman,  uneasy  and  sus- 
picious, but  without  speaking,  looked  at  every- 
one around  her.  Her  little  gray  eyes,  piercing  and 
hard,  fixed  themselves  now  on  the  one  and  now  on 
the  other,  full  of  thoughts  which  could  be  read  by 
her  embarrassed  children. 

Caravan,   to   explain   matters,    said:     "She   has 

C  1903 


A     FAMILY    AFFAIR 

been  somewhat  ill,  but  she  is  better  now  —  quite 
well,   indeed,   are  you  not,  mother?" 

Then  the  good  woman,  stopping  in  her  walk,  re- 
sponded in  a  husky  voice,  as  though  it  came  from  a 
distance:  "It  was  catalepsy.  I  heard  you  all  the 
while." 

An  embarrassing  silence  followed.  They  entered 
the  dining-room,  and  in  a  few  minutes  sat  down  to 
an  improvised  dinner. 

Only  Monsieur  Braux  had  retained  his  self-posses- 
sion; his  gorilla  features  grinned  wickedly,  while  he 
let  fall  some  words  of  double  meaning  which  pain- 
fully disconcerted  everyone. 

But  the  bell  in  the  hall  kept  on  ringing  every 
second;  and  Rosalie,  who  had  lost  her  head,  came 
looking  for  Caravan,  who  dashed  out,  throwing 
down  his  napkin.  His  brother-in-law  even  asked 
him  whether  it  was  not  one  of  his  visiting  days, 
to  which  he  stammered  out,  "No,  a  few  messages; 
nothing  of  importance." 

Next,  a  packet  was  brought  in,  which  he  began 
to  open  without  thinking,  and  the  death  announce- 
ments, with  black  borders,  appeared.  Reddening 
up  to  the  very  eyes.  Caravan  closed  the  envelope, 
and  pushed  it  into  his  waistcoat  pocket. 

His  mother  had  not  seen  it!  She  was  looking  in- 
tently at  her  clock,  which  stood  on  the  mantel- 
piece, and  the  embarrassment  increased  in  midst 
of  a  glacial  silence.  Turning  her  wrinked  old  witch's 
face  toward  her  daughter,  the  old  woman,  from 
whose  eyes  flashed  fierce  mahce,  said: 

"On  Monday  bring  me  your  httle  girl.  I  want 
so  much  to  see  her." 


A     FAMILY    AFFAIR 

Madame  Braux,  her  features  illuminated,  ex- 
claimed: "Yes,  mother,  I  will,"  while  Madame 
Caravan,  the  younger,  became  pale,  and  seemed 
to  be  enduring  the  most  excruciating  agony.  The 
two  men,  however,  gradually  drifted  into  conver- 
sation, and  soon  became  embroiled  in  a  pohtical 
discussion.  Braux  maintained  the  most  revolu- 
tionary and  communistic  doctrines,  gesticulating 
and  throwing  about  his  arms,  his  eyes  gleaming  in 
his  hairy  countenance. 

"Property,  sir,"  he  said,  "is  a  robbery  perpe- 
trated on  the  working  classes;  the  land  is  the  com- 
mon property  of  every  man;  hereditary  rights  are 
an  infamy  and  a  disgrace."  But,  hereupon,  he 
suddenly  stopped,  having  all  the  appearance  of 
a  man  who  has  just  said  something  foolish:  then, 
resuming,  after  a  pause,  he  said  in  softer  tones: 
"But,  I  can  see  quite  well  that  this  is  not  the  proper 
moment  to  discuss  things." 

The  door  was  opened,  and  "Doctor"  Chenet 
appeared.  For  a  moment  he  seemed  bewildered, 
but  regaining  his  composure,  he  approached  the  old 
woman,  and  said: 

"Ah,  ha!  mamma,  you  are  better  to-day.  Oh! 
I  never  had  any  doubt  but  you  would  come  round 
again;  in  fact,  I  said  to  myself  as  I  was  mounting 
the  staircase:  *I  have  an  idea  that  I  shall  find  the 
old  woman  on  her  feet  once  more.' "  Then  he  tapped 
her  gently  on  the  back:  "Ah!  she  is  as  solid  as  the 
Pont-Neuf,  she  will  bury  us  all  out:  you  will  see 
if  she  does  not." 

He  sat  down,  accepted  the  coffee  that  was  offered 
him.  and  soon  began  to  join  in  the  conversation  of 

C  192  H 


A     FAMILY    AFFAIR 

the  two  men,  backing  up  Braux,  for  he  himself  had 
been  mixed  up  in  the  Commune. 

Now  the  old  woman,  feeling  herself  fatigued, 
wished  to  leave  the  room,  at  which  Caravan  rushed 
forward.  She  thereupon  looked  him  in  the  eyes 
and  said  to  him: 

"You  must  carry  my  clock  and  chest  of  drawers 
upstairs  again  without  a  moment's  delay." 

"Yes,  mamma,"  he  replied,  stammering;  "yes, 
I  will  do  so." 

The  old  woman  then  took  the  arm  of  her  daugh- 
ter and  withdrew  from  the  room.  The  two  Cara- 
vans remained  rooted  to  the  floor,  silent,  plunged 
in  the  deepest  despair,  while  Braux  rubbed  his 
hands  and  sipped  his  coffee,  gleefully. 

Suddenly  Madame  Caravan,  consumed  with  rage, 
attacked  him,  exclaiming:  "You  are  a  thief,  a  scoun- 
drel, a  cur.  I  would  spit  in  your  face,  if  —  I  would 
■ —  I  —  would  — "  She  could  find  nothing  further 
to  say,  suffocating  as  she  was  with  rage,  while 
Braux  still  sipped  his  coffee,  laughing. 

His  wife,  returning  just  then,  rushed  at  her  sis- 
ter-in-law, and  both  —  the  one  with  her  enormous 
bulk,  the  other,  epileptic  and  spare  —  with  angry 
voices  and  hands  trembling,  hurled  wild  insults  at 
each  other. 

Chenet  and  Braux  now  interposed,  and  the  lat- 
ter, taking  his  better  half  by  the  shoulders,  pushed 
her  out  of  the  door  in  front  of  him,  shouting: 

"Get  out,  you  ass:  you  make  too  much  noise." 
Then  the  two  were  heard  in  the  street  quarrelling 
with  each  other,  until  they  had  disappeared  in  the 
distance. 

c  1933 


A    FAMILY    AFFAIR 


Monsieur  Chenet  also  took  his  departure,  leav- 
ing the  Caravans  alone,  face  to  face.  The  husband 
fell  back  in  his  chair,  and  with  the  cold  sweat 
standing  out  in  beads  on  his  temples  murmured: 
"What  on  earth  shall  I  say  at  the  office?" 


Z  194  H 


ON    THE    RIVER 

LAST  summer  I  rented  a  country  cottage  on  the 
banks  of  the  Seine,  several  miles  from  Paris, 
and  I  used  to  go  out  to  sleep  there  every 
night.  After  a  while,  I  formed  the  acquaintance 
of  one  of  my  neighbours,  a  man  between  thirty  and 
forty  years  of  age,  who  really  was  one  of  the  queer- 
est characters  I  have  ever  met.  He  was  an  old 
boating-man,  crazy  on  the  subject  of  boats,  and 
was  always  either  in,  or  on,  or  by  the  water.  He 
must  have  been  born  in  a  boat,  and  probably  he 
will  die  in  one,  some  day,  while  taking  a  last  outing. 
One  evening,  as  we  were  walking  along  the  banks 
of  the  Seine,  I  asked  him  to  tell  me  about  some  of 
his  nautical  experiences.  Immediately  his  face 
hghted  up,  and  he  became  eloquent,  almost  poet- 
ical, for  his  heart  was  full  of  an  all-absorbing,  irre- 
sistible, devouring  passion  —  a  love  for  the  river. 

"Ah!"  said  he,  "how  many  recollections  I  have 
of  the  river  that  flows  at  our  feet!  You  street- 
dwellers  have  no  idea  what  the  river  really  is.  But 
let  a  fisherman  pronounce  the  word.  To  him  it 
means  mystery,  the  unknown,  a  land  of  mirage  and 
phantasmagoria,  where  odd  things  that  have  no 
real  existence  are  seen  at  night  and  strange  noises 
are  heard;  where  one  trembles  without  knowing 
the  reason  why,  as  when  passing  through  a  ceme- 

t  1953 


ON    THE     RIVER 

tery,  —  and  indeed  the  river  is  a  sinister  cemetery 
without  graves. 

"Land,  for  a  fisherman,  has  boundaries,  but  the 
river,  on  moonless  nights,  appears  to  him  unhmited 
A  sailor  doesn't  feel  the  same  way  about  the  sea. 
The  sea  is  often  cruel,  but  it  roars  and  foams,  it 
gives  us  fair  warning;  the  river  is  silent  and  treach- 
erous. It  flows  stealthily,  without  a  murmur,  and 
the  eternal  gentle  motion  of  the  water  is  more  awful 
to  me  than  the  big  ocean  waves, 

"Dreamers  beheve  that  the  deep  hides  immense 
lands  of  blue,  where  the  drowned  roll  around  among 
the  big  fish,  in  strange  forests  or  in  crystal  caves. 
The  river  has  only  black  depths,  where  the  dead 
decay  in  the  slime.  But  it's  beautiful  when  the  sun 
shines  on  it,  and  the  waters  splash  softly  on  the 
banks  covered  with  whispering  reeds. 

"In  speaking  of  the  ocean  the  poet  says: 

**'0  flots,  que  vous  savez  de  lugubres  histolres! 
Plots  profonds,  redoutes  des  meres  a  genoux, 
Vous  vous  les  racontez  en  montant  les  marees, 
Et  c'est  ce  qui  vous  fait  ces  voix  desesperees 
Que  vous  avez,  le  soir,  quand  vous  venez  vers  nous.' 

Well,  I  believe  that  the  stories  the  slender  reeds 
tell  one  another  in  their  wee,  silvery  voices  are  even 
more  appalling  than  the  ghastly  tragedies  related 
by  the  roaring  waves. 

"But  as  you  have  asked  me  to  relate  some  of 
my  recollections,  I  will  tell  you  a  strange  adventure 
that  happened  to  me  here,  about  ten  years  ago. 

"Then,  as  now,  I  lived  in  old  mother  Lafon's 
house  and  one  of  my  best  friends,  Louis  Bernet, 

1:1963 


ON    THE     RIVER 

who  since  has  given  up  boating,  as  well  as  his 
happy-go-lucky  ways,  to  become  a  State  Councillor, 

was  camping  out  in  the  village  of  C ,  two  miles 

away.  We  used  to  take  dinner  together  every  day, 
either  at  his  place  or  at  mine. 

"One  evening,  as  I  was  returning  home  alone, 
feeling  rather  tired,  and  with  difficulty  rowing  the 
twelve-foot  boat  that  I  always  took  out  at  night, 
I  stopped  to  rest  a  little  while  near  that  point  over 
there,  formed  by  reeds,  about  two  hundred  yards  in 
front  of  the  railway  bridge.  The  weather  was  mag- 
nificent; the  moon  was  shining  very  brightly,  and 
the  air  was  soft  and  still.  The  calmness  of  the 
surroundings  tempted  me,  and  I  thought  how  pleas- 
ant it  would  be  to  fill  my  pipe  here  and  smoke. 
No  sooner  said  than  done,  and,  laying  hold  of  the 
anchor,  I  dropped  it  overboard.  The  boat,  which 
was  following  the  stream,  slid  to  the  end  of  the 
chain  and  came  to  a  stop;  I  settled  myself  aft  on 
a  rug,  as  comfortably  as  I  could.  There  was  not  a 
sound  to  be  heard  nor  a  movement  to  be  seen, 
though  sometimes  I  noticed  the  almost  impercep- 
tible rippling  of  the  water  on  the  banks,  and  watched 
the  highest  clumps  of  reeds,  which  at  times  assumed 
strange  shapes  that  appeared  to  move. 

"  The  river  was  perfectly  calm,  but  I  was  affected 
by  the  extraordinary  stillness  that  enveloped  me. 
The  frogs  and  toads,  the  nocturnal  musicians  of  the 
swamps,  were  voiceless.  Suddenly,  at  my  right,  a 
frog  croaked.  I  started;  it  stopped,  and  all  was 
silent.  I  resolved  to  light  my  pipe  for  distraction. 
But,  strange  to  say,  though  I  was  an  inveterate 
smoker  I  failed  to  enjoy  it,  and  after  a  few  puffs 

n  197  H 


ON     THE     RIVER 

I  grew  sick  and  stopped  smoking.  Then  I  began 
to  hum  an  air,  but  the  sound  of  my  voice  depressed 
me. 

"  At  last  I  lay  down  in  the  boat  and  watched  the 
sky.  For  a  while  I  remained  quiet,  but  presently 
the  shght  pitching  of  the  boat  disturbed  me.  I 
felt  as  if  it  were  swaying  to  and  fro  from  one  side 
of  the  river  to  the  other,  and  that  an  invisible  force 
or  being  was  drawing  it  slowly  to  the  bottom  and 
then  raising  it  to  let  it  drop  again.  I  was  knocked 
about  as  if  in  a  storm;  I  heard  strange  noises;  I 
jumped  up;  the  water  was  shining  and  all  was  still. 
Then  I  knew  that  my  nerves  were  slightly  shaken, 
and  decided  to  leave  the  river.  I  pulled  on  the 
chain.  The  boat  moved  along,  but  presently  I  felt 
some  resistance  and  pulled  harder.  The  anchor  re- 
fused to  come  up;  it  had  caught  in  something  at 
the  bottom  and  remained  stuck.  I  pulled  and 
tugged  but  to  no  avail.  With  the  oars  I  turned  the 
boat  around  and  forced  her  up-stream,  in  order  to 
alter  the  position  of  the  anchor.  This  was  all  in 
vain,  however,  for  the  anchor  did  not  yield;  so  in 
a  rage,  I  began  to  shake  at  the  chain,  which 
wouldn't  budge. 

"  I  sat  down  discouraged,  to  ponder  over  my  mis- 
hap. It  was  impossible  to  break  the  chain  or  to 
separate  it  from  the  boat,  as  it  was  enormous  and 
was  riveted  to  a  piece  of  wood  as  big  as  my  arm; 
but  as  the  weather  continued  fine,  I  did  not  doubt 
but  that  some  fisherman  would  come  along  and 
rescue  me.  The  accident  calmed  me  so  much  that 
I  managed  to  remain  quiet  and  smoke  my  pipe.  I 
had  a  bottle  of  rum  with  me  so  I  drank  two  or  three 


ON    THE     RIVER 

glasses  of  it  and  began  to  laugh  at  my  situation. 
It  was  so  warm  that  it  would  not  have  mattered 
much  had  I  been  obhged  to  spend  all  night  out 
of  doors. 

"Suddenly  something  jarred  slightly  against  the 
side  of  the  boat.  I  started,  and  a  cold  sweat  broke 
over  me  from  head  to  foot.  The  noise  was  due  to 
a  piece  of  wood  drifting  along  with  the  current, 
but  it  proved  sufficient  to  disturb  my  mind,  and 
once  more  I  seized  the  chain  and  tugged  in  des- 
peration. I  felt  the  same  strange  nervousness  creep 
over  me.  The  anchor  remained  firm.  I  seated 
myself  again,  exhausted. 

"Meantime  the  river  was  covering  itself  with  a 
white  mist  that  lay  close  to  the  water,  so  that  when 
I  stood  up  neither  the  stream,  nor  my  feet,  nor  the 
boat,  were  visible  to  me;  I  could  distinguish  only 
the  ends  of  the  reeds  and,  a  little  farther  away,  the 
meadow,  ashen  in  the  moonlight,  with  large  black 
patches  formed  by  groups  of  Italian  poplars  reach- 
ing toward  the  sky.  I  was  buried  up  to  my  waist 
in  something  that  looked  like  a  blanket  of  down 
of  a  peculiar  whiteness;  and  all  kinds  of  fantastic 
visions  arose  before  me.  I  imagined  that  some  one 
was  trying  to  crawl  into  the  boat,  which  I  could 
no  longer  see,  and  that  the  river  hidden  under  the 
thick  fog  was  full  of  strange  creatures  that  were 
swimming  all  around  me.  I  felt  a  horrible  depres- 
sion steal  over  me,  my  temples  throbbed,  my  heart 
beat  wildly,  and,  losing  all  control  over  myself,  I 
was  ready  to  plunge  overboard  and  swim  to  safety. 
But  this  idea  suddenly  filled  me  with  horror.  I 
imagined  myself  lost  in  the  dense  mist,  floundering 

C  199  3 , 


ON    THE    RIVER 

about  aimlessly  among  the  reeds  and  water-plants, 
unable  to  find  the  banks  of  the  river  or  the  boat; 
and  I  felt  as  if  I  should  certainly  be  drawn  by  my 
feet  to  the  bottom  of  the  dark  waters.  As  I  really 
should  have  had  to  swim  against  the  current  for 
at  least  five  hundred  yards  before  reaching  a  spot 
where  I  could  safely  land,  it  was  nine  chances  to 
ten  that,  being  unable  to  see  in  the  fog,  I  should 
drown,  although  I  was  a  fine  swimmer. 

"I  tried  to  overcome  my  dread.  I  determined 
not  to  be  afraid,  but  there  was  something  in  me 
besides  my  will  and  that  something  was  faint- 
hearted. I  asked  myself  what  there  was  to  fear; 
my  courageous  self  railed  at  the  other,  the  timid 
one;  never  before  had  I  so  fully  reafised  the  oppo- 
sition that  exists  between  the  two  beings  we  have 
in  us;  the  one  willing,  the  other  resisting,  and  each 
one  triumphing  in  turn.  But  this  foolish  and  un- 
accountable fear  was  growing  worse  and  worse,  and 
was  becoming  positive  terror.  I  remained  motion- 
less, with  open  eyes  and  straining  ears,  waiting. 
For  what?  I  scarcely  knew,  but  it  must  have  been 
for  something  terrible.  I  beheve  that  had  a  fish 
suddenly  taken  it  into  its  head  to  jump  out  of  the 
water,  as  frequently  happens,  I  should  have  fallen 
in  a  dead  faint.  However,  I  managed  to  keep  my 
senses  after  a  violent  eff"ort  to  control  myself.  I  took 
my  bottle  of  rum  and  again  raised  it  to  my  lips. 

"Suddenly  I  began  to  shout  at  the  top  of  my 
voice,  turning  successively  toward  the  four  points 
of  the  horizon.  After  my  throat  had  become  com- 
letely  paralysed  with  shouting,  I  listened.  A  dog 
was  barking  in  the  distance. 

1:2003 


ON    THE    RIVER 

"I  drank  some  more  rum  and  lay  down  in  the 
bottom  of  the  boat.  I  remained  thus  at  least  one 
hour,  perhaps  two,  without  sleeping,  my  eyes  open, 
visited  by  nightmares.  I  did  not  dare  to  sit  up, 
though  I  had  an  insane  desire  to  do  so;  I  put  it 
off  from  second  to  second,  saying:  *Now  then,  I'll 
get  up,'  but  I  was  afraid  to  move.  At  last  I  raised 
myself  with  infinite  care,  as  if  my  fife  depended  on 
the  slightest  sound  I  might  make,  and  peered  over 
the  edge  of  the  boat.  I  was  greeted  by  the  most 
marvellous,  stupendous  sight  that  it  is  possible  to 
imagine.  It  was  a  vision  of  fairyland,  one  of  those 
phenomena  that  travellers  in  distant  countries  teli 
us  about,  but  that  we  are  unable  to  beheve. 

"The  mist,  which  two  hours  ago  hung  over  the 
water,  had  lifted  and  settled  on  the  banks  of  the 
stream.  It  formed  on  each  side  an  unbroken  hill, 
six  or  seven  yards  in  height,  that  shone  in  the  moon- 
hght  with  the  dazzling  whiteness  of  snow.  Nothing 
could  be  seen  but  the  flashing  river,  moving  be- 
tween the  two  white  mountains,  and  overhead  a 
full  moon  that  illuminated  the  milky-blue  sky. 

"All  the  hosts  of  the  water  had  awakened;  the 
frogs  were  croaking  dismally,  while  from  time  to 
time  a  toad  sent  its  short,  monotonous,  and  gloomy 
note  to  the  stars.  Strange  to  say,  I  was  no  longer 
frightened;  I  was  surrounded  by  a  landscape  so 
utterly  unreal  that  the  strangest  freaks  of  nature 
would  not  have  surprised  me  at  all. 

"How  long  this  situation  lasted  I  am  unable  to 
tell,  for  I  finally  dozed  off"  to  sleep.  When  I  awoke, 
the  moon  was  gone  and  the  sky  was  covered  with 
clouds.    The  water  splashed  dismally,  the  wind  was 

C201  3 


ON    THE     RIVER 

blowing,  it  was  cold  and  completely  dark.  I  fin- 
ished the  rum  and  lay  hstening  to  the  rustling  of 
the  reeds  and  the  murmur  of  the  river.  I  tried  to 
see,  but  failed  to  distinguish  the  boat  or  even  my 
hands,  although  I  held  them  close  to  my  eyes.  The 
darkness,  however,  was  slowly  decreasing.  Suddenly 
I  thought  I  saw  a  shadow  ghde  past  me.  I  shouted 
to  it  and  a  voice  responded:  it  was  a  fisherman.  I 
called  to  him  and  told  him  of  my  plight.  He 
brought  his  boat  alongside  mine  and  both  began 
tugging  at  the  chain.  The  anchor  still  would  not 
yield.  A  cold,  rainy  day  was  setting  in,  one  of 
those  days  that  bring  disaster  and  sadness.  I  per- 
ceived another  boat,  which  we  hailed.  The  owner 
added  his  strength  to  ours,  and  little  by  little  the 
anchor  gave  way.  It  came  up  very  slowly,  laden 
with  considerable  weight.  Finally  a  black  heap  ap- 
peared and  we  dragged  it  into  my  boat.  It  was 
the  body  of  an  old  woman,  with  a  big  stone  tied 
around  her  neck!" 


C2023 


PAUL'S    MISTRESS 

THE  Restaurant  Grillon,  a  small  common- 
wealth of  boatmen,  was  slowly  emptying. 
In  front  of  the  door  all  was  tumult  —  cries 
and  calls  —  and  huge  fellows  in  white  jerseys  ges- 
ticulated with  oars  on  their  shoulders. 

The  ladies  in  bright  spring  toilettes  stepped 
aboard  the  skiffs  with  care,  and  seating  themselves 
astern,  arranged  their  dresses,  while  the  landlord 
of  the  estabhshment,  a  mighty,  red-bearded,  self- 
possessed  individual  of  renowned  strength,  offered 
his  hand  to  the  pretty  creatures,  and  kept  the  frail 
crafts  steady. 

The  rowers,  bare-armed,  with  bulging  chests, 
took  their  places  in  their  turn,  playing  to  the  gal- 
lery as  they  did  so  —  a  gallery  consisting  of  middle- 
class  people  dressed  in  their  Sunday  clothes,  of 
workmen  and  soldiers  leaning  upon  their  elbows  on 
the  parapet  of  the  bridge,  all  taking  a  great  interest 
in  the  sight. 

One  by  one  the  boats  cast  off  from  the  landing 
stage.  The  oarsmen  bent  forward  and  then  threw 
themselves  backward  with  even  swing,  and  under 
the  impetus  of  the  long  curved  oars,  the  swift  skiffs 
glided  along  the  river,  grew  smaller  in  the  distance, 
and  finally  disappeared  under  the  railway  bridge, 
as  they  descended  the  stream  toward  La  Grenouil- 

112033 


PAUL'S    MISTRESS 

lere.  One  couple  only  remained  behind.  The 
young  man,  still  almost  beardless,  slender,  with  a 
pale  countenance,  held  his  mistress,  a  thin  Httle 
brunette  with  the  air  of  a  grasshopper,  by  the 
waist;  and  occasionally  they  gazed  into  each 
other's  eyes.     The  landlord  shouted: 

"Come,  Mr.  Paul,  make  haste,"  and  they  drew 
near. 

Of  all  the  guests  of  the  house,  Mr.  Paul  was  the 
most  hked  and  most  respected.  He  paid  well  and 
punctually,  while  the  others  hung  back  for  a  long 
time  if  indeed  they  did  not  vanish  without  paying. 
Besides  which  he  was  a  sort  of  walking  advertise- 
ment for  the  establishment,  inasmuch  as  his  father 
was  a  senator.  When  a  stranger  would  inquire: 
"Who  on  earth  is  that  little  chap  who  thinks  so 
much  of  his  girl?"  some  habitue  would  reply,  half- 
aloud,  with  a  mysterious  and  important  air:  "Don't 
you  know?    That  is  Paul  Baron,  a  senator's  son.'* 

And  invariably  the  other  would  exclaim: 

"Poor  devil!     He  has  got  it  badly." 

Mother  Grillon,  a  good  and  worthy  business 
woman,  described  the  young  man  and  his  com- 
panion as  "her  two  turtledoves,"  and  appeared 
quite  touched  by  this  passion,  which  was  profit- 
able for  her  business. 

The  couple  advanced  at  a  slow  pace.  The  skiff 
"Madeleine"  was  ready,  and  at  the  moment  of  em- 
barking they  kissed  each  other,  which  caused  the 
public  collected  on  the  bridge  to  laugh.  Mr.  Paul 
took  the  oars,  and  rowed  away  for  La  Grenouillere. 

When  they  arrived  it  was  just  upon  three  o'clock 
and  the  large  floating  cafe  overflowed  with  people. 


PAUL'S    MISTRESS 

The  immense  raft,  sheltered  by  a  tarpaulin  roof, 
is  joined  to  the  charming  island  of  Croissy  by  two 
narrow  footbridges,  one  of  which  leads  into  the  cen- 
tre of  the  aquatic  estabhshment,  while  the  other 
unites  with  a  tiny  islet,  planted  with  a  tree  and 
called  "The  Flower  Pot,"  and  thence  leads  to  land 
near  the  bath  office. 

Mr.  Paul  made  fast  his  boat  alongside  the  estab- 
lishment, climbed  over  the  railing  of  the  cafe,  and 
then,  grasping  his  mistress's  hands,  assisted  her  out 
of  the  boat.  They  both  seated  themselves  at  the 
end  of  a  table  opposite  each  other. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  along  the  tow- 
ing-path, a  long  string  of  vehicles  was  drawn  up. 
Cabs  alternated  with  the  fine  carriages  of  the 
swells;  the  first,  clumsy,  with  enormous  bodies 
crushing  the  springs,  drawn  by  broken-down  hacks 
with  hanging  heads  and  broken  knees;  the  second, 
slightly  built  on  light  wheels,  with  horses  slender 
and  straight,  their  heads  well  up,  their  bits  snowy 
with  foam,  and  with  solemn  coachmen  in  livery, 
heads  erect  in  high  collars,  waiting  bolt  upright, 
with  whips  resting  on  their  knees. 

The  bank  was  covered  with  people  who  came  off 
in  families,  or  in  parties,  or  in  couples,  or  alone. 
They  plucked  at  the  blades  of  grass,  went  down  to 
the  water,  ascended  the  path,  and  having  reached 
the  spot,  stood  still  awaiting  the  ferryman.  The 
clumsy  punt  plied  incessantly  from  bank  to  bank, 
discharging  its  passengers  upon  the  island.  The 
arm  of  the  river  (called  the  Dead  Arm)  upon  which 
this  refreshment  wharf  lay,  seemed  asleep,  so  feeble 
was  the  current.  Fleets  of  yawls,  of  skiffs,  of  ca- 
ll 205  3 


PAUL'S     MISTRESS 

noes,  of  podoscaphs,  of  gigs,  of  craft  of  all  forms 
and  of  all  kinds,  crept  about  upon  the  motionless 
stream,  crossing  each  other,  intermingling,  running 
foul  of  one  another,  stopping  abruptly  under  a  jerk 
of  the  arms  only  to  shoot  off  afresh  under  a  sudden 
strain  of  the  muscles  and  ghding  swiftly  along  like 
great  yellow  or  red  fishes. 

Others  arrived  continually;  some  from  Chatou 
up  the  stream;  others  from  Bougival  down  it; 
laughter  crossed  the  water  from  one  boat  to  an- 
other, calls,  admonitions,  or  imprecations.  The 
boatmen  exposed  the  bronzed  and  knotted  muscles 
of  their  biceps  to  the  heat  of  the  day;  and  like 
strange  floating  flowers,  the  silk  parasols,  red, 
green,  blue,  or  yellow,  of  the  ladies  bloomed  in 
the  sterns  of  the  boats. 

A  July  sun  flamed  high  in  the  heavens;  the  at- 
mosphere seemed  full  of  burning  merriment;  not  a 
breath  of  air  stirred  the  leaves  of  the  willows  or 
poplars. 

In  front,  away  in  the  distance,  the  inevitable 
Mont-Valerien  reared  its  fortified  ramparts,  tier 
above  tier,  in  the  intense  light;  while  on  the  right 
the  divine  slopes  of  Louveciennes,  following  the  bend 
of  the  river,  disposed  themselves  in  a  semicircle, 
displaying  in  turn  across  the  rich  and  shady  lawns 
of  large  gardens  the  white  walls  of  country  seats. 

Upon  the  outskirts  of  La  Grenouillere  a  crowd  of 
pedestrians  moved  about  beneath  the  giant  trees 
which  make  this  corner  of  the  island  one  of  the 
most  delightful  parks  in  the  world. 

Women  and  girls  with  yellow  hair  and  breasts 
developed  beyond  all  measurement,  with  exagger- 

1206  2 


PAUL'S    MISTRESS 

ated  hips,  their  complexions  plastered  with  rouge, 
their  eyes  daubed  with  charcoal,  their  hps  blood- 
red,  laced  up,  rigged  out  in  outrageous  dresses, 
trailed  the  crying  bad  taste  of  their  toilettes  over 
the  fresh  green  sward;  while  beside  them  young 
men  posed  in  their  fashion-plate  garments  with 
hght  gloves,  patent  leather  boots,  canes  the  size 
of  a  thread,  and  single  eyeglasses  emphasizing  the 
insipidity  of  their  smiles. 

Opposite  La  Grenouillere  the  island  is  narrow, 
and  on  its  other  side,  where  also  a  ferryboat  phes, 
bringing  people  unceasingly  across  from  Croissy, 
the  rapid  branch  of  the  river,  full  of  whirlpools 
and  eddies  and  foam,  rushes  along  with  the  strength 
of  a  torrent.  A  detachment  of  pontoon-builders, 
in  the  uniform  of  artillerymen,  was  encamped  upon 
this  bank,  and  the  soldiers  seated  in  a  row  on  a 
long  beam  watched  the  water  flowing. 

In  the  floating  estabhshment  there  was  a  bois- 
terous and  uproarious  crowd.  The  wooden  tables 
upon  which  the  spilt  refreshments  made  httle  sticky 
streams  were  covered  with  half-empty  glasses  and 
surrounded  by  half-tipsy  individuals.  The  crowd 
shouted,  sang,  and  brawled.  The  men,  their  hats 
at  the  backs  of  their  heads,  their  faces  red,  with 
the  shining  eyes  of  drunkards,  moved  about  vo- 
ciferating and  evidently  looking  for  the  quarrels 
natural  to  brutes.  The  women,  seeking  their  prey 
for  the  night,  sought  for  free  hquor  in  the  mean- 
time; and  the  unoccupied  space  between  the  tables 
was  dominated  by  the  customary  local  public,  a 
whole  regiment  of  rowdy  boatmen,  with  their 
female  companions  in  short  flannel  skirts 

I  207  3 


PAUL'S    MISTRESS 

One  of  them  performed  on  the  piano  and  ap- 
peared to  play  with  his  feet  as  well  as  his  hands; 
four  couples  glided  through  a  quadrille,  and  some 
young  men  watched  them,  pohshed  and  correct, 
men  who  would  have  looked  respectable,  did  not 
their  innate  viciousness  show  in  spite  of  everything. 

For  there  you  see  all  the  scum  of  society,  all  its 
well-bred  debauchery,  all  the  seamy  side  of  Parisian 
society  —  a  mixture  of  counter-jumpers,  of  strolling 
players,  of  low  journalists,  of  gentlemen  in  tutelage, 
of  rotten  stock-jobbers,  of  ill-famed  debauchees,  of 
old  used-up  fast  men;  a  doubtful  crowd  of  sus- 
picious characters,  half-known,  half-sunk,  half-recog- 
nised, half-criminal,  pickpockets,  rogues,  procurers 
of  women,  sharpers  with  dignified  manners,  and  a 
bragging  air  which  seems  to  say:  "I  shall  kill  the 
first  man  who  treats  me  as  a  scoundrel." 

The  place  reeks  of  folly,  and  stinks  of  vulgarity 
and  cheap  gallantry.  Male  and  female  are  just  as 
bad  one  as  the  other.  There  dwells  an  odour  of  so- 
called  love,  and  there  one  fights  for  a  yes,  or  for  a 
no,  in  order  to  sustain  a  worm-eaten  reputation, 
which  a  thrust  of  the  sword  or  a  pistol  bullet  only 
destroys  further. 

Some  of  the  neighbouring  inhabitants  looked  in 
out  of  curiosity  every  Sunday;  some  young  men, 
very  young,  appeared  there  every  year  to  learn  how 
to  live,  some  promenaders  lounging  about  showed 
themselves  there;  some  greenhorns  wandered 
thither.  With  good  reason  is  it  named  La  Gre- 
nouillere.  At  the  side  of  the  covered  wharf  where 
drink  was  served,  and  quite  close  to  the  Flower 
Pot,  people  bathed.    Those  among  the  women  who 

C2083 


PAUL'S     MISTRESS 

possessed  the  requisite  roundness  of  form  came 
there  to  display  their  wares  and  to  get  chents. 
The  rest,  scornful,  although  well  filled  out  with 
wadding,  supported  by  springs,  corrected  here  and 
altered  there,  watched  their  dabbhng  sisters  with 
disdain. 

The  swimmers  crowded  on  to  a  httle  platform 
to  dive.  Straight  hke  vine  poles,  or  round  hke 
pumpkins,  gnarled  hke  ohve  branches,  bowed  over 
in  front,  or  thrown  backward  by  the  size  of  their 
stomachs,  and  invariably  ugly,  they  leaped  into 
the  water,  splashing  it  over  the  drinkers  in  the  cafe. 

Notwithstanding  the  great  trees  which  overhang 
the  floating-house,  and  notwithstanding  the  vi- 
cinity of  the  water,  a  suffocating  heat  filled  the 
place.  The  fumes  of  the  spilt  Hquors  mingled  with 
the  effluvia  of  the  bodies  and  with  the  strong  per- 
fumes with  which  the  skin  of  the  trader  in  love  is 
saturated  and  which  evaporate  in  this  furnace. 
But  beneath  all  these  diverse  scents  a  shght  aroma 
of  poudre  de  riz  hngered,  disappearing  and  reap- 
pearing, and  perpetually  encountered  as  though 
some  concealed  hand  had  shaken  an  invisible  pow- 
der-puff in  the  air.  The  show  was  on  the  river, 
where  the  perpetual  coming  and  going  of  the  boats 
attracted  the  eyes.  The  girls  in  the  boats  sprawled 
upon  their  seats  opposite  their  strong-wristed  males, 
and  scornfully  contemplated  the  dinner-hunting 
females  prowHng  about  the  island. 

Sometimes  when  a  crew  in  full  swing  passed  at 
top  speed,  the  friends  who  had  gone  ashore  gave 
vent  to  shouts,  and  all  the  people  as  if  suddenly 
seized  with  madness  commenced  to  yell. 

C  209:1 


PAUL'S    MISTRESS 

At  the  bend  of  the  river  toward  Chatou  fresh 
boats  continually  appeared.  They  came  nearer 
and  grew  larger,  and  as  faces  became  recognisable, 
the  vociferations  broke  out  anew. 

A  canoe  covered  with  an  awning  and  manned  by 
four  women  came  slowly  down  the  current.  She 
who  rowed  was  petite,  thin,  faded,  in  a  cabin-boy's 
costume,  her  hair  drawn  up  under  an  oilskin  hat. 
Opposite  her,  a  lusty  blonde,  dressed  as  a  man, 
with  a  white  flannel  jacket,  lay  upon  her  back  at 
the  bottom  of  the  boat,  her  legs  in  the  air,  resting 
on  the  seat  at  each  side  of  the  rower.  She  smoked 
a  cigarette,  while  at  each  stroke  of  the  oars,  her 
chest  and  her  stomach  quivered,  shaken  by  the 
stroke.  At  the  back,  under  the  awning,  two  hand- 
some girls,  tall  and  slender,  one  dark  and  the  other 
fair,  held  each  other  by  the  waist  as  they  watched 
their  companions. 

A  cry  arose  from  La  Grenouillere,  "There's  Les- 
bos," and  all  at  once  a  furious  clamour,  a  terrifying 
scramble  took  place;  the  glasses  were  knocked 
down;  people  clambered  on  to  the  tables;  all  in  a 
frenzy  of  noise  bawled:  "Lesbos!  Lesbos!  Les- 
bos!" The  shout  rolled  along,  became  indistinct, 
was  no  longer  more  than  a  kind  of  deafening  howl, 
and  then  suddenly  it  seemed  to  start  anew,  to  rise 
into  space,  to  cover  the  plain,  to  fill  the  foliage  of 
the  great  trees,  to  extend  to  the  distant  slopes, 
and  reach  even  to  the  sun. 

The  rower,  in  the  face  of  this  ovation,  had  quietly 
stopped.  The  handsome  blonde,  stretched  out  upon 
the  bottom  of  the  boat,  turned  her  head  with  a 
careless  air,  as  she  raised  herself  upon  her  elbows; 

C2103 


PAUL'S    MISTRESS 

and  the  two  girls  at  the  back  commenced  laughing 
as  they  saluted  the  crowd. 

Then  the  hullabaloo  redoubled,  making  the  float- 
ing estabhshment  tremble.  The  men  took  off  their 
hats,  the  women  waved  their  handkerchiefs,  and  all 
voices,  shrill  or  deep,  together  cried: 

"Lesbos." 

It  was  as  if  these  people,  this  collection  of  the 
corrupt,  saluted  their  chiefs  hke  the  war-ships 
which  fire  guns  when  an  admiral  passes  along  the 
hne. 

The  numerous  fleet  of  boats  also  saluted  the 
women's  boat,  which  pushed  along  more  quickly 
to  land  farther  off". 

Mr.  Paul,  contrary  to  the  others,  had  drawn  a 
key  from  his  pocket  and  whistled  with  all  his  might. 
His  nervous  mistress  grew  paler,  caught  him  by  the 
arm  to  make  him  be  quiet,  and  upon  this  occasion 
she  looked  at  him  with  fury  in  her  eyes.  But  he 
appeared  exasperated,  as  though  borne  away  by 
jealousy  of  some  man  or  by  deep  anger,  instinctive 
and  ungovernable.  He  stammered,  his  Hps  quiver- 
ing with  indignation: 

*Tt  is  shameful!  They  ought  to  be  drowned  Hke 
puppies  with  a  stone  about  the  neck." 

But  Madeleine  instantly  flew  into  a  rage;  her 
small  and  shrill  voice  became  a  hiss,  and  she  spoke 
volubly,  as  though  pleading  her  own  cause: 

"And  what  has  it  to  do  with  you  —  you  indeed? 
Are  they  not  at  liberty  to  do  what  they  wish  since 
they  owe  nobody  anything?  You  shut  up  and 
mind  your  own  business." 

But  he  cut  her  speech  short: 

i:2iij 


PAUL'S     MISTRESS 

"It  is  the  police  whom  it  concerns,  and  I  will 
have  them  marched  off  to  St.  Lazare;  indeed  I 
will." 

She  gave  a  start: 

"  You  ?  " 

"Yes,  I!  And  in  the  meantime  I  forbid  you  to 
speak  to  them  —  you  understand,  I  forbid  you  to 
do  so." 

Then  she  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  grew  calm 
in  a  moment: 

"My  dear,  I  shall  do  as  I  please;  if  you  are  not 
satisfied,  be  off,  and  instantly.  I  am  not  your  wife, 
am  I?    Very  well  then,  hold  your  tongue." 

He  made  no  reply  and  they  stood  face  to  face, 
their  hps  tightly  closed,  breathing  quickly. 

At  the  other  end  of  the  great  wooden  cafe  the 
four  women  made  their  entry.  The  two  in  men's 
costumes  marched  in  front:  the  one  thin  Hke  an 
oldish  tomboy,  with  a  yellow  tinge  on  her  temples; 
the  other  fdling  out  her  white  flannel  garments  with 
her  fat,  swelling  out  her  wide  trousers  with  her  but- 
tocks and  swaying  about  like  a  fat  goose  with  enor- 
mous legs  and  yielding  knees.  Their  two  friends 
followed  them,  and  the  crowd  of  boatmen  thronged 
about  to  shake  their  hands. 

The  four  had  hired  a  small  cottage  close  to  the 
water's  edge,  and  lived  there  as  two  households 
would  have  lived. 

Their  vice  was  public,  recognised,  patent  to  all. 
People  talked  of  it  as  a  natural  thing,  which  al- 
most excited  their  sympathy,  and  whispered  in  very 
low  tones  strange  stories  of  dramas  begotten  of  furi- 
ous feminine  jealousies,  of  the  stealthy  visit  of  well- 

C2123 


PAUL'S    MISTRESS 

known  women  and  of  actresses  to  the  little  house 
close  to  the  water's  edge. 

A  neighbour,  horrified  by  these  scandalous  ru- 
mours, notified  the  poHce,  and  the  inspector,  ac- 
companied by  a  man,  had  come  to  make  inquiry. 
The  mission  was  a  dehcate  one;  it  was  impossible, 
in  short,  to  accuse  these  women,  who  did  not  aban- 
don themselves  to  prostitution,  of  any  tangible 
crime.  The  inspector,  very  much  puzzled,  and,  in- 
deed, ignorant  of  the  nature  of  the  offences  sus- 
pected, had  asked  questions  at  random,  and  made 
a  lofty  report  conclusive  of  their  innocence. 

The  joke  spread  as  far  as  Saint  Germain.  They 
walked  about  the  Grenouillere  estabhshment  with 
mincing  steps  Hke  queens;  and  seemed  to  glory  in 
their  fame,  rejoicing  in  the  gaze  that  was  fixed  on 
them,  so  superior  to  this  crowd,  to  this  mob,  to 
these  plebeians. 

Madeleine  and  her  lover  watched  them  approach, 
and  the  girl's  eyes  lit  up. 

When  the  first  two  had  reached  the  end  of  the 
table,  Madeleine  cried: 

"PauHne!" 

The  large  woman  turned  and  stopped,  continuing 
all  the  time  to  hold  the  arm  of  her  feminine  cabin-boy: 

"Good  gracious,  Madeleine!  Do  come  and  talk 
to  me,  my  dear." 

Paul  squeezed  his  fingers  upon  his  mistress's 
wrist,  but  she  said  to  him,  with  such  an  air:  "You 
know,  my  dear,  you  can  clear  out,  if  you  like," 
that  he  said  nothing  and  remained  alone. 

Then  they  chatted  in  low  voices,  all  three  of  them 
standing.     Many  pleasant  jests  passed  their  hps, 

n2i33 


PAUL'S    M  ISTRESS 

they  spoke  quickly;  and  Pauline  now  and  then 
looked  at  Paul,  by  stealth,  with  a  shrewd  and 
malicious  smile. 

At  last,  unable  to  put  up  with  it  any  longer,  he 
suddenly  rose  and  in  a  single  bound  was  at  their 
side,  trembling  in  every  limb.  He  seized  Madeleine 
by  the  shoulders. 

"Come,  I  wish  it,"  said  he;  "I  have  forbidden 
you  to  speak  to  these  sluts." 

Whereupon  Pauline  raised  her  voice  and  set  to 
work  blackguarding  him  with  her  Billingsgate  vo- 
cabulary. All  the  bystanders  laughed;  they  drew 
near  him;  they  raised  themselves  on  tiptoe  in  order 
the  better  to  see  him.  He  remained  dumb  under 
this  downpour  of  filthy  abuse.  It  appeared  to  him 
that  the  words  which  came  from  that  mouth  and 
fell  upon  him  defiled  him  like  dirt,  and,  in  presence 
of  the  row  which  was  beginning,  he  fell  back,  re- 
traced his  steps,  and  rested  his  elbows  on  the  railing 
toward  the  river,  turning  his  back  upon  the  vic- 
torious women. 

There  he  stayed  watching  the  water,  and  some- 
times with  rapid  gesture,  as  though  he  could  pluck 
it  out,  he  removed  with  his  nervous  fingers  the  tear 
which  stood  in  his  eye. 

The  fact  was  that  he  was  hopelessly  in  love, 
without  knowing  why,  notwithstanding  his  refined 
instincts,  in  spite  of  his  reason,  in  spite,  indeed,  of 
his  will.  He  had  fallen  into  this  love  as  one  falls 
into  a  muddy  hole.  Of  a  tender  and  delicate  dis- 
position, he  had  dreamed  of  liaisons,  exquisite, 
ideal,  and  impassioned,  and  there  that  little  bit  of 
a  woman,  stupid  like  all  prostitutes,  with  an  exas- 

I2142 


PAUL'S    MISTRESS 

perating  stupidity,  not  even  pretty,  but  thin  and  a 
spitfire,  had  taken  him  prisoner,  possessing  him 
from  head  to  foot,  body  and  soul.  He  had  sub- 
mitted to  this  feminine  witchery,  mysterious  and 
all  powerful,  this  unknown  power,  this  prodigious 
domination  —  arising  no  one  knows  whence,  but 
from  the  demon  of  the  flesh  —  which  casts  the  most 
sensible  man  at  the  feet  of  some  harlot  or  other 
without  there  being  anything  in  her  to  explain  her 
fatal  and  sovereign  power. 

And  there  at  his  back  he  felt  that  some  infamous 
thing  was  brewing.  Shouts  of  laughter  cut  him  to 
the  heart.  What  should  he  do?  He  knew  well,  but 
he  could  not  do  it. 

He  steadily  watched  an  angler  upon  the  bank 
opposite  him,  and  his  motionless  hne. 

Suddenly,  the  worthy  man  jerked  a  Httle  silver 
fish,  which  wriggled  at  the  end  of  his  hne,  out  of 
the  river.  Then  he  endeavoured  to  extract  his  hook, 
pulled  and  turned  it,  but  in  vain.  At  last,  losing 
patience,  he  commenced  to  tear  it  out,  and  all  the 
bleeding  gullet  of  the  fish,  with  a  portion  of  its  in- 
testines came  out.  Paul  shuddered,  rent  to  his 
heartstrings.  It  seemed  to  him  that  the  hook  was 
his  love,  and  that  if  he  should  pluck  it  out,  all  that 
he  had  in  his  breast  would  come  out  in  the  same 
way  at  the  end  of  a  curved  iron,  fixed  in  the  depths 
of  his  being,  to  which  Madeleine  held  the  line. 

A  hand  was  placed  upon  his  shoulder;  he  started 
and  turned;  his  mistress  was  at  his  side.  They  did 
not  speak  to  each  other;  and  like  him  she  rested 
her  elbows  upon  the  railing,  and  fixed  her  eyes  upon 
the  river. 

C2153 


PAUL'S     MISTRESS 

He  tried  to  speak  to  her  and  could  find  nothing. 
He  could  not  even  disentangle  his  own  emotions; 
all  that  he  was  sensible  of  was  joy  at  feehng  her 
there  close  to  him,  come  back  again,  as  well  as 
shameful  cowardice,  a  craving  to  pardon  every- 
thing, to  allow  everything,  provided  she  never  left 
him. 

At  last,  after  a  few  minutes,  he  asked  her  in  a 
very  gentle  voice: 

"Would  you  hke  to  go?  It  will  be  nicer  in  the 
boat." 

She  answered:    "Yes,  darling." 

And  he  assisted  her  into  the  skiff,  pressing  her 
hands,  all  softened,  with  some  tears  still  in  his  eyes. 
Then  she  looked  at  him  with  a  smile  and  they 
kissed  each  other  again. 

They  reascended  the  river  very  slowly,  skirting 
the  willow-bordered,  grass-covered  bank,  bathed 
and  still  in  the  afternoon  warmth.  When  they  had 
returned  to  the  Restaurant  Grillon,  it  was  barely 
six  o'clock.  Then  leaving  their  boat  they  set  off  on 
foot  towards  Bezons,  across  the  fields  and  along  the 
high  poplars  which  bordered  the  river.  The  long 
grass  ready  to  be  mowed  was  full  of  flowers.  The 
sinking  sun  glowed  from  beneath  a  sheet  of  red 
light,  and  in  the  tempered  heat  of  the  closing  day 
the  floating  exhalations  from  the  grass,  mingled 
with  the  damp  scents  from  the  river,  filled  the  air 
with  a  soft  languor,  with  a  happy  light,  with  an 
atmosphere  of  blessing. 

A  soft  weakness  overtook  his  heart,  a  species  of 
communion  with  this  splendid  calm  of  evening,  with 
this  vague  and  mysterious  throb  of  teeming  life, 

C2163 


PAUL'S    MISTRESS 

with  the  keen  and  melancholy  poetry  which  seems 
to  arise  from  flowers  and  things,  and  reveals  itself 
to  the  senses  at  this  sweet  and  pensive  time. 

Paul  felt  all  that;  but  for  her  part  she  did  not 
understand  anything  of  it.  They  walked  side  by 
side;  and,  suddenly,  tired  of  being  silent,  she  sang. 
She  sang  in  her  shrill,  unmusical  voice  some  street 
song,  some  catchy  air,  which  jarred  upon  the  pro- 
found and  serene  harmony  of  the  evening. 

Then  he  looked  at  her  and  felt  an  impassable 
abyss  between  them.  She  beat  the  grass  with  her 
parasol,  her  head  shghtly  inclined,  admiring  her 
feet  and  singing,  dwelling  on  the  notes,  attempting 
trills,  and  venturing  on  shakes.  Her  smooth  little 
brow,  of  which  he  was  so  fond,  was  at  that  time 
absolutely  empty!  empty!  There  was  nothing 
therein  but  this  canary  music;  and  the  ideas  which 
formed  there  by  chance  were  like  this  music.  She 
did  not  understand  anything  of  him;  they  were 
now  as  separated  as  if  they  did  not  live  together. 
Did  his  kisses  never  go  any  farther  than  her  lips? 

Then  she  raised  her  eyes  to  him  and  laughed 
again.  He  was  moved  to  the  quick  and,  extending 
his  arms  in  a  paroxysm  of  love,  he  embraced  her 
passionately. 

As  he  was  rumpling  her  dress  she  finally  broke 
away  from  him,  murmuring  by  way  of  compensa- 
tion as  she  did  so: 

"That's  enough.  You  know  I  love  you,  my 
darhng." 

But  he  clasped  her  around  the  waist  and,  seized 
by  madness,  he  started  to  run  with  her.  He  kissed 
her  on  the  cheek,  on  the  temple,  on  the  neck,  all 

C2173 


PAUL'S    MISTRESS 

the  while  dancing  with  joy.  They  threw  them- 
selves down  panting  at  the  edge  of  a  thicket,  lit  up 
by  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  and  before  they  had 
recovered  breath  they  were  in  one  another's  arms 
without  her  understanding  his  transport. 

They  returned,  holding  each  other  by  the  hand, 
when,  suddenly,  through  the  trees,  they  perceived 
on  the  river  the  skiff  manned  by  the  four  women. 
Fat  Pauline  also  saw  them,  for  she  drew  herself 
up  and  blew  kisses  to  Madeleine.  And  then  she 
cried : 

"Until  to-night!" 

Madeleine  replied:   "Until  to-night!" 

Paul  felt  as  if  his  heart  had  suddenly  been  frozen. 

They  re-entered  the  house  for  dinner  and  in- 
stalled themselves  in  one  of  the  arbours,  close  to  the 
water.  They  began  to  eat  in  silence.  When  night 
arrived,  the  waiter  brought  a  candle  enclosed  in 
a  glass  globe,  which  gave  a  feeble  and  glimmering 
hght;  and  they  heard  every  moment  the  bursts  of 
shouting  from  the  boatmen  in  the  large  room  on 
the  first  floor. 

Toward  dessert,  Paul,  taking  Madeleine's  hand, 
tenderly  said  to  her: 

"I  feel  very  tired,  my  darling;  unless  you  have 
any  objection,  we  will  go  to  bed  early." 

She,  however,  understood  the  ruse,  and  shot  an 
enigmatical  glance  at  him  —  that  glance  of  treach- 
ery which  so  readily  appears  in  the  depths  of  a 
woman's  eyes.     Having  reflected  she  answered: 

"You  can  go  to  bed  if  you  wish,  but  I  have 
promised  to  go  to  the  ball  at  La  Grenouillere." 

He   smiled  in   a  piteous   manner,   one  of  those 

n2i8  3 


PAUL'S     MISTRESS 

smiles  with  which  one  veils  the  most  horrible  suffer- 
ing, and  replied  in  a  coaxing  but  agonized  tone: 

"If  you  were  really  nice,  we  should  remain  here, 
both  of  us." 

She  indicated  no  with  her  head,  without  opening 
her  mouth. 

He  insisted: 

"I  beg  of  you,  my  darhng." 

Then  she  roughly  broke  out: 

"You  know  what  I  said  to  you.  If  you  are  not 
satisfied,  the  door  is  open.  No  one  wishes  to  keep 
you.    As  for  myself,  I  have  promised;    I  shall  go." 

He  placed  his  two  elbows  upon  the  table,  cov- 
ered his  face  with  his  hands,  and  remained  there 
pondering  sorrowfully. 

The  boat  people  came  down  again,  shouting  as 
usual,  and  set  off  in  their  vessels  for  the  ball  at  La 
Grenouillere. 

Madeleine  said  to  Paul: 

"If  you  are  not  coming,  say  so,  and  I  will  ask 
one  of  these  gentlemen  to  take  me." 

Paul  rose: 

"Let  us  go!"  murmured  he. 

And  they  left. 

The  night  was  black,  the  sky  full  of  stars,  but 
the  air  was  heat-laden  by  oppressive  breaths  of 
wind,  burdened  with  emanations,  and  with  hving 
germs,  which  destroyed  the  freshness  of  the  night. 
It  offered  a  heated  caress,  made  one  breathe  more 
quickly,  gasp  a  httle,  so  thick  and  heavy  did  it 
seem.  The  boats  started  on  their  way,  bearing  Ve- 
netian lanterns  at  the  prow.  It  was  not  possible  to 
distinguish   the   craft,  but  only  the  httle  coloured 

112193 


PAUL'S     MISTRESS 

lights,  swift  and  dancing  up  and  down  like  frenzied 
glowworms,  while  voices  sounded  from  all  sides  in 
the  shadows.  The  young  people's  skiff  ghded 
gently  along.  Now  and  then,  when  a  fast  boat 
passed  near  them,  they  could,  for  a  moment,  see 
the  white  back  of  the  rower,  lit  up  by  his  lantern. 

When  they  turned  the  elbow  of  the  river.  La 
Grenouillere  appeared  to  them  in  the  distance.  The 
establishment  en  Jete,  was  decorated  with  flags  and 
garlands  of  coloured  hghts,  in  grape-Hke  clusters. 
On  the  Seine  some  great  barges  moved  about 
slowly,  representing  domes,  pyramids,  and  elabo- 
rate monuments  in  fires  of  all  colours.  Illuminated 
festoons  hung  right  down  to  the  water,  and  some- 
times a  red  or  blue  lantern,  at  the  end  of  an  im- 
mense invisible  fishing-rod,  seemed  like  a  great 
swinging  star. 

All  this  illumination  spread  a  light  around  the 
cafe,  lit  up  the  great  trees  on  the  bank,  from  top 
to  bottom,  the  trunks  standing  out  in  pale  gray 
and  the  leaves  in  milky  green  upon  the  deep  black 
of  the  fields  and  the  heavens.  The  orchestra,  com- 
posed of  five  suburban  artists,  flung  far  its  public- 
house  dance-music,  poor  of  its  kind  and  jerky, 
inciting  Madeleine  to  sing  anew. 

She  wanted  to  go  in  at  once.  Paul  wanted  first 
to  take  a  stroll  on  the  island,  but  he  was  obliged  to 
give  way.  The  attendance  was  now  more  select. 
The  boatmen,  almost  alone,  remained,  with  here 
and  there  some  better  class  people,  and  young  men 
escorted  by  girls.  The  director  and  organiser  of 
this  spree,  looking  majestic  in  a  jaded  black  suit, 
walked  about  in  every  direction,  bald-headed  and 

C2203 


PAUL'S     MISTRESS 

worn  by  his  old  trade  of  purveyor  of  cheap  public 
amusements. 

Fat  Pauline  and  her  companions  were  not  there; 
and  Paul  breathed  again. 

They  danced;  couples  opposite  each  other  ca- 
pered in  the  maddest  fashion,  throwing  their  legs 
in  the  air,  until  they  were  upon  a  level  with  the 
noses  of  their  partners. 

The  women,  whose  thighs  seemed  disjointed, 
pranced  around  with  flying  skirts  which  revealed 
their  underclothing,  wriggling  their  stomachs  and 
hips,  causing  their  breasts  to  shake,  and  spreading 
the  powerful  odour  of  perspiring  female  bodies. 

The  men  squatted  like  toads,  some  making  ob- 
scene gestures;  some  twisted  and  distorted  them- 
selves, grimacing  and  hideous;  some  turned  cart- 
wheels on  their  hands,  or,  perhaps,  trying  to  be 
funny,  posed  with  exaggerated  gracefulness. 

A  fat  servant-maid  and  two  waiters  served  re- 
freshments. 

The  cafe  boat  being  only  covered  with  a  roof  and 
having  no  wall  whatever  to  shut  it  in,  this  hare- 
brained dance  flaunted  in  the  face  of  the  peaceful 
night  and  of  the  firmament  powdered  with  stars. 

Suddenly,  Mont-Valerien,  opposite,  appeared,  il- 
lumined, as  if  some  conflagration  had  arisen  behind 
it.  The  radiance  spread  and  deepened  upon  the 
sky,  describing  a  large  luminous  circle  of  white,  wan 
light.  Then  something  or  other  red  appeared,  grew 
greater,  shining  with  a  burning  crimson,  like  that 
of  hot  metal  upon  the  anvil.  It  gradually  devel- 
oped into  a  round  body  rising  from  the  earth;  and 
the  moon,   freeing  herself  from  the  horizon,   rose 

I  221  3 


PAUL'S    MISTRESS 

slowly  into  space.  As  she  ascended,  the  purple  tint 
faded  and  became  yellow,  a  shining  bright  yellow, 
and  the  satelhte  grew  smaller  in  proportion  as  her 
distance  increased. 

Paul  watched  the  moon  for  some  time,  lost  in 
contemplation,  forgetting  his  mistress;  when  he 
returned  to  himself  the  latter  had  vanished. 

He  sought  her,  but  could  not  find  her.  He 
threw  his  anxious  eye  over  table  after  table,  going 
to  and  fro  unceasingly,  inquiring  for  her  from  one 
person  and  then  another.  No  one  had  seen  her. 
He  was  tormented  with  uneasiness,  when  one  of  the 
waiters  said  to  him: 

"You  are  looking  for  Madame  Madeleine,  are 
you  not?  She  left  a  few  moments  ago,  with  Ma- 
dame Pauline."  And  at  the  same  instant,  Paul 
perceived  the  cabin-boy  and  the  two  pretty  girls 
standing  at  the  other  end  of  the  cafe,  all  three  hold- 
ing each  other's  waists  and  lying  in  wait  for  him, 
whispering  to  one  another.  He  understood,  and, 
like  a  madman,  dashed  off  into  the  island. 

He  first  ran  toward  Chatou,  but  having  reached 
the  plain,  retraced  his  steps.  Then  he  began  to 
search  the  dense  coppices,  occasionally  roaming 
about  distractedly,  or  halting  to  hsten. 

The  toads  all  about  him  poured  out  their  short 
metalhc  notes. 

From  the  direction  of  Bougival,  some  unknown 
bird  warbled  a  song  which  reached  him  faintly 
from  the  distance. 

Over  the  broad  fields  the  moon  shed  a  soft  light, 
resembling  powdered  wool;  it  penetrated  the  foli- 
age, silvered  the  bark  of  the  poplars,  and  riddled 

C  222  n 


PAUL'S    MISTRESS 

with  its  brilliant  rays  the  waving  tops  of  the  great 
trees.  The  entrancing  poetry  of  this  summer  night 
had,  in  spite  of  himself,  entered  into  Paul,  athwart 
his  infatuated  anguish,  stirring  his  heart  with  fe- 
rocious irony,  and  increasing  even  to  madness  his 
craving  for  an  ideal  tenderness,  for  passionate  out- 
pourings on  the  breast  of  an  adored  and  faithful 
woman.  He  was  compelled  to  stop,  choked  by 
hurried  and  rending  sobs. 

The  convulsion  over,  he  went  on. 

Suddenly,  he  received  what  resembled  the  stab 
of  a  dagger.  There,  behind  that  bush,  some  people 
were  kissing.  He  ran  thither;  and  found  an  amo- 
rous couple  whose  faces  were  united  in  an  endless 
kiss. 

He  dared  not  call,  knowing  well  that  She  would 
not  respond,  and  he  had  a  frightful  dread  of  coming 
upon  them  suddenly. 

The  flourishes  of  the  quadrilles,  with  the  ear- 
splitting  solos  of  the  cornet,  the  false  shriek  of  the 
flute,  the  shrill  squeaking  of  the  violin,  irritated 
his  feelings,  and  increased  his  suff"ering.  Wild  and 
limping  music  was  floating  under  the  trees,  now 
feeble,  now  stronger,  wafted  hither  and  thither  by 
the  breeze. 

Suddenly  he  thought  that  possibly  She  had  re- 
turned. Yes,  she  had  returned!  Why  not?  He 
had  stupidly  lost  his  head,  without  cause,  carried 
away  by  his  fears,  by  the  inordinate  suspicions 
which  had  for  some  time  overwhelmed  him.  Seized 
by  one  of  those  singular  calms  which  will  some- 
times occur  in  cases  of  the  greatest  despair,  he  re- 
turned toward  the  ball-room. 

112233 


PAUL'S     MISTRESS 

With  a  single  glance  of  the  eye,  he  took  in  the 
whole  room.  He  made  the  round  of  the  tables,  and 
abruptly  again  found  himself  face  to  face  with  the 
three  women.  He  must  have  had  a  doleful  and 
queer  expression  of  countenance,  for  all  three  burst 
into  laughter. 

He  made  off,  returned  to  the  island,  and  threw 
himself  into  the  coppice  panting.  He  listened  again, 
listened  a  long  time,  for  his  ears  were  singing.  At 
last,  however,  he  believed  he  heard  farther  off  a 
little,  sharp  laugh,  which  he  recognised  at  once; 
and  he  advanced  very  quietly,  on  his  knees,  re- 
moving the  branches  from  his  path,  his  heart  beating 
so  rapidly,  that  he  could  no  longer  breathe. 

Two  voices  murmured  some  words,  the  meaning 
of  which  he  did  not  understand,  and  then  they  were 
silent. 

Then,  he  was  possessed  by  a  frightful  longing  to 
fly,  to  save  himself,  for  ever,  from  this  furious  pas- 
sion which  threatened  his  existence.  He  was  about 
to  return  to  Chatou  and  take  the  train,  resolved 
never  to  come  back  again,  never  again  to  see  her. 
But  her  likeness  suddenly  rushed  in  upon  him,  and 
he  mentally  pictured  the  moment  in  the  morning 
when  she  would  awake  in  their  warm  bed,  and  would 
press  coaxingly  against  him,  throwing  her  arms 
around  his  neck,  her  hair  dishevelled,  and  a  little 
entangled  on  the  forehead,  her  eyes  still  shut  and  her 
lips  apart  ready  to  receive  the  first  kiss.  The  sudden 
recollection  of  this  morning  caress  filled  him  with 
frantic  recollections  and  the  maddest  desire. 

The  couple  began  to  speak  again;  and  he  ap- 
proached, stooping  low.    Then  a  faint  cry  rose  from 


PAUL'S     MISTRESS 

under  the  branches  quite  close  to  him.  He  advanced 
again,  in  spite  of  himself,  irresistibly  attracted,  with- 
out being  conscious  of  anything  —  and  he  saw  them. 

If  her  companion  had  only  been  a  man.  But  that! 
that!  He  felt  as  though  he  were  spellbound  by  the 
very  infamy  of  it.  And  he  stood  there  astounded 
and  overwhelmed,  as  if  he  had  discovered  the 
mutilated  corpse  of  one  dear  to  him,  a  crime  against 
nature,  a  monstrous,  disgusting  profanation.  Then, 
in  an  involuntary  flash  of  thought,  he  remembered 
the  Httle  fish  whose  entrails  he  had  felt  being  torn 
out!  But  Madeleine  murmured:  "Pauhne!"  in 
the  same  tone  in  which  she  had  often  called  him  by 
name,  and  he  was  seized  by  such  a  fit  of  anguish 
that  he  turned  and  fled. 

He  struck  against  two  trees,  fell  over  a  root,  set 
off  again,  and  suddenly  found  himself  near  the 
rapid  branch  of  the  river,  which  was  fit  up  by  the 
moon.  The  torrent-like  current  made  great  eddies 
where  the  light  played  upon  it.  The  high  bank 
dominated  the  stream  Hke  a  cliff",  leaving  a  wide 
obscure  zone  at  its  foot  where  the  eddies  could  be 
heard  swirling  in  the  darkness. 

On  the  other  bank,  the  country  seats  of  Croissy 
could  be  plainly  seen. 

Paul  saw  all  this  as  though  in  a  dream;  he  thought 
of  nothing,  understood  nothing,  and  all  things,  even 
his  very  existence,  appeared  vague,  far-off,  forgotten, 
and  closed. 

The  river  was  there.  Did  he  know  what  he  was 
doing?  Did  he  wish  to  die?  He  was  mad.  He 
turned,  however,  toward  the  island,  toward  Her, 
and  in  the  still  air  of  the  night,  in  which  the  faint 


PAUL'S    MISTRESS 

and  persistent  burden  of  the  music  was  borne  up 
and  down,  he  uttered,  in  a  voice  frantic  with  despair, 
bitter  beyond  measure,  and  superhumanly  low,  a 
frightful  cry: 

"Madeleine!" 

His  heartrending  call  shot  across  the  great  silence 
of  the  sky,  and  sped  over  the  horizon.  Then  with 
a  tremendous  leap,  with  the  bound  of  a  wild  animal, 
he  jumped  into  the  river.  The  water  rushed  on, 
closed  over  him,  and  from  the  place  where  he  had 
disappeared  a  series  of  great  circles  started,  enlarg- 
ing their  brilhant  undulations,  until  they  finally 
reached  the  other  bank.  The  two  women  had  heard 
the  noise  of  the  plunge.  Madeleine  drew  herself  up 
and  exclaimed: 

"  It  is  Paul,"  —  a  suspicion  having  arisen  in  her 
soul,  —  "he  has  drowned  himself";  and  she  rushed 
toward  the  bank,  where  Pauline  rejoined  her. 

A  clumsy  punt,  propelled  by  two  men,  turned 
round  and  round  on  the  spot.  One  of  the  men  rowed, 
the  other  plunged  into  the  water  a  great  pole  and 
appeared  to  be  looking  for  something.    Pauhne  cried: 

"What  are  you  doing?     What  is  the  matter?" 

An  unknown  voice  answered: 

"It  is  a  man  who  has  just  drowned  himself." 

The  two  haggard  women,  huddling  close  to  each 
other,  followed  the  manoeuvres  of  the  boat.  The 
music  of  La  Grenouillere  continued  to  sound  in  the 
distance,  seeming  with  its  cadences  to  accompany 
the  movements  of  the  sombre  fishermen;  and  the 
river  which  now  concealed  a  corpse,  whirled  round 
and  round,  illuminated.  The  search  was  prolonged. 
The  horrible  suspense  made  Madeleine  shiver  all 

C2263 


PAUL'S     MISTRESS 

over.  At  last,  after  at  least  half  an  hour,  one  of  the 
men  announced: 

"I  have  got  him." 

And  he  pulled  up  his  long  pole  very  gently,  very 
gently.  Then  something  large  appeared  upon  the 
surface.  The  other  boatman  left  his  oars,  and  by 
uniting  their  strength  and  hauhng  upon  the  inert 
weight,  they  succeeded  in  getting  it  into  their  boat. 

Then  they  made  for  land,  seeking  a  place  well 
hghted  and  low.  At  the  moment  they  landed,  the 
women  also  arrived.  The  moment  she  saw  him, 
Madeleine  fell  back  with  horror.  In  the  moonlight 
he  already  appeared  green,  with  his  mouth,  his  eyes, 
his  nose,  his  clothes  full  of  shme.  His  fingers,  closed 
and  stiff,  were  hideous.  A  kind  of  black  and  Hquid 
plaster  covered  his  whole  body.  The  face  appeared 
swollen,  and  from  his  hair,  plastered  down  by  the 
ooze,  there  ran  a  stream  of  dirty  water. 

The  two  men  examined  him. 

"Do  you  know  him?"  asked  one. 

The  other,  the  Croissy   ferryman,   hesitated: 

"Yes,  it  certainly  seems  to  me  that  I  have  seen 
that  head;  but  you  know  when  a  body  is  in  that 
state  one  cannot  recognize  it  easily."  And  then, 
suddenly: 

"Why,  it's  Mr.   Paul!" 

"Who  is  Mr.   Paul?"   inquired  his  comrade. 

The  first  answered: 

"Why,  Mr.  Paul  Baron,  the  son  of  the  senator, 
the  httle  chap  who  was  so  much  in  love." 

The  other  added,  philosophically: 

"Well,  his  fun  is  ended  now;  it  is  a  pity,  all  the 
same,  when  one  is  rich!" 


PAUL'S     MISTRESS 

Madeleine  had  fallen  on  the  ground  sobbing. 
Pauline   approached   the   body   and   asked: 

"Is  he  really  quite  dead?" 

The  men  shrugged  their  shoulders. 

"Oh!  after  that  length  of  time,  certainly." 

Then  one  of  them  asked: 

"Was  it  not  at  Grillon's  that  he  lodged?" 

"Yes,"  answered  the  other;  "we  had  better  take 
him  back  there,  there  will  be  something  to  be  made 
out  of  it." 

They  embarked  again  in  their  boat  and  set  out, 
moving  off  slowly  on  account  of  the  rapid  current. 
For  a  long  time  after  they  were  out  of  sight  of  the 
place  where  the  women  remained,  the  regular  splash 
of  the  oars  in  the  water  could  be  heard. 

Then  PauHne  took  the  poor  weeping  Madeleine 
in  her  arms,  petted  her,  embraced  her  for  a  long 
while,  and  consoled  her. 

"How  can  you  help  it?  it  is  not  your  fault,  is 
it?  It  is  impossible  to  prevent  men  from  doing 
silly  things.  He  did  it  of  his  own  free  will;  so 
much  the  worse  for  him,  after  all!" 

And  then  Hfting  her  up: 

"Come,  my  dear,  come  and  sleep  at  the  house; 
it  is  impossible  for  you  to  go  back  to  Grillon's 
to-night." 

And  she  embraced  her  again,  saying:  "Come, 
we  will  cure  you." 

Madeleine  arose,  and  weeping  all  the  while  but 
with  fainter  sobs,  laid  her  head  upon  Pauhne's 
shoulder,  as  though  she  had  found  a  refuge  in  a 
closer  and  more  certain  affection,  more  familiar 
and  more  confiding,  and  she  went  off  slowly. 

122S-2 


THE    DEAD    HAND 

ONE  evening,  about  eight  months  ago,  a 
friend  of  mine,  Louis  R.,  had  invited  together 
some  college  friends.  We  drank  punch,  and 
smoked,  and  talked  about  literature  and  art,  telling 
amusing  stories  from  time  to  time,  as  young  men 
do  when  they  come  together.  Suddenly  the  door 
opened  wide,  and  one  of  my  best  friends  from  child- 
hood entered  like  a  hurricane.  "Guess  where  I  come 
from!"  he  shouted  immediately.  "Mabille's,  I  bet," 
one  of  us  replied.  "No,"  said  another,  "you  are  too 
cheerful;  you  have  just  borrowed  some  money,  or 
buried  your  uncle,  or  pawned  your  watch."  A  third 
said:  "You  have  been  drunk,  and  as  you  smelt 
Louis's  punch,  you  came  up  to  start  all  over  again." 

"You  are  all  wrong.    I  have  come  from  P 

in  Normandy,  where  I  have  been  spending  a  week, 
and  from  which  I  have  brought  along  a  distinguished 
criminal  friend  of  mine,  whom  I  will  introduce,  with 
your  permission."  With  these  words  he  drew  from 
his  pocket  a  skinned  hand.  It  was  a  horrible  object; 
black  and  dried,  very  long  and  looking  as  if  it  were 
contracted.  The  muscles,  of  extraordinary  power, 
were  held  in  place  on  the  back  and  palm  by  a  strip 
of  parchment-like  skin,  while  the  narrow,  yellow 
nails  still  remained  at  the  tips  of  the  fingers.  The 
whole  hand  reeked  of  crime  a  mile  off. 

112293 


THE     DEAD     HAND 

**Just  fancy,"  said  my  friend,  "the  other  day  the 
belongings  of  an  old  sorcerer  were  sold  who  was 
very  well  known  all  over  the  country-side.  He  used 
to  ride  to  the  sabbath  every  Saturday  night  on  a 
broomstick,  he  practised  white  and  black  magic, 
caused  the  cows  to  give  blue  milk  and  to  wear  their 
tails  like  that  of  Saint  Anthony's  companion.  At 
all  events,  the  old  ruffian  had  a  great  affection  for 
this  hand,  which,  he  said,  was  that  of  a  celebrated 
criminal,  who  was  tortured  in  1736  for  having 
thrown  his  legitimate  spouse  head  foremost  into  a 
well,  and  then  hung  the  priest  who  married  them  to 
the  spire  of  his  church.  After  this  twofold  exploit  he 
went  wandering  all  over  the  world,  and  during  a 
short  buy  busy  career  he  had  robbed  twelve  travel- 
lers, smoked  out  some  twenty  monks  in  a  monastery, 
and  turned  a  nunnery  into  a  harem." 

"But,"  we  cried,  "what  are  you  going  to  do  with 
that  horrible  thing?" 

"Why,  I'll  use  it  as  a  bell  handle  to  frighten  away 
my  criditors." 

"My  dear  fellow,"  said  Henry  Smith,  a  tall, 
phlegmatic  Englishman,  "I  believe  this  hand  is 
simply  a  piece  of  Indian  meat,  preserved  by  some  new 
method.     I  should  advise  you  to  make  soup  of  it." 

"Don't  joke  about  it,  gentlemen,"  said  a  medical 
student,  who  was  three  sheets  in  the  wind,  with  the 
utmost  solemnity.  "Pierre,  if  you  take  my  advice, 
give  this  piece  of  human  remains  a  Christian  burial, 
for  fear  the  owner  of  it  may  come  and  demand  its 
return.  Besides,  this  hand  may  perhaps  have 
acquired  bad  habits.  You  know  the  proverb: 
*Once  a  thief  always  a  thief.'" 

C2303 


THE     DEAD     HAND 

"And  'once  a  drunkard  always  a  drunkard,'" 
retorted  our  host,  pouring  out  a  huge  glass  of  punch 
for  the  student,  who  drank  ft  off  at  a  gulp,  and  fell 
under  the  table  dead  drunk.  This  sally  was  greeted 
with  loud  laughter.  And  Pierre,  raising  his  glass, 
saluted  the  hand:  "I  drink  to  your  master's  next 
visit."  Then  the  conversation  turned  to  other 
topics,  and  we  separated  to  go  home. 

As  I  was  passing  his  door  the  next  day,  I  went  in. 
It  was  about  two  o'clock,  and  I  found  him  reading 
and  smoking.  "Well,  how  are  you?"  I  said. 
"Very  well,"  he  answered. 

"And  what  about  your  hand?" 

"My  hand?  You  must  have  seen  it  on  my  bell, 
where  I  put  it  last  night  when  I  came  in.  By  the 
way,  fancy,  some  idiot,  no  doubt  trying  to  play  a 
trick  on  me,  came  ringing  at  my  door  about  mid- 
night. I  asked  who  was  there,  but,  as  nobody 
answered,  I  got  back  to  bed  and  fell  asleep  again." 

Just  at  that  moment  there  was  a  ring.  It  was 
the  landlord,  a  vulgar  and  most  impertinent  person. 
He  came  in  without  greeting  us,  and  said  to  my 
friend:  "I  must  ask  you.  Sir,  to  remove  at  once 
that  piece  of  carrion  which  you  have  attached  to 
your  bell-handle.  Otherwise  I  shall  be  obhged  to 
ask  you  to  leave." 

"Sir,"  rephed  Pierre  very  gravely,  "you  are  in- 
sulting a  hand  which  is  worthy  of  better  treatment. 
I  would  have  you  know  that  it  belonged  to  a  most 
respectable  man," 

The  landlord  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked  out, 
just  as  he  had  come  in.  Pierre  followed  him,  un- 
hooked the  hand,  and  attached  it  to  the  bell  in  his 

n23i3 


THE     DEAD     HAND 

bedroom.  "It  is  better  there,"  he  said.  **Like 
the  Trappists'  memento  mori,  this  hand  will 
bring  me  serious  thoughts  every  night  as  I  fall 
asleep."     An  hour  later  I  left  him  and  went  home. 

I  slept  badly  the  following  night.  I  was  nervous 
and  restless.  Several  times  I  awoke  with  a  start, 
and  once  I  even  fancied  that  a  man  had  got  into 
my  room.  I  got  up  and  looked  in  the  wardrobes  and 
under  the  bed.  Finally,  about  six  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  when  I  was  beginning  to  doze  off,  a  violent 
knock  at  my  door  made  me  jump  out  of  bed.  It 
was  my  friend's  servant,  half  undressed,  pale  and 
trembling.  "Oh,  Sir,"  he  cried  with  a  sob,  "they've 
murdered  the  poor  master."  I  dressed  in  haste 
and  rushed  off  to  Pierre's. 

The  house  was  full  of  people,  arguing  and  moving 
about  incessantly.  Everyone  was  holding  forth, 
relating  the  event  and  commenting  upon  it  from 
every  angle.  With  great  difficulty  I  reached  the 
bedroom.  The  door  was  guarded,  but  I  gave  my 
name,  and  I  was  admitted.  Four  police  officers 
were  standing  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  notebook 
in  hand,  and  they  were  making  an  examination. 
From  time  to  time  they  spoke  to  each  other  in 
whispers  and  made  entries  in  their  notebooks. 
Two  doctors  were  chatting  near  the  bed  on  which 
Pierre  was  lying  unconscious.  He  was  not  dead, 
but  he  looked  awful.  His  staring  eyes,  his  dilated 
pupils,  seemed  to  be  gazing  fixedly  with  unspeakable 
terror  at  something  strange  and  horrible.  His 
fingers  were  contracted  stifHy,  and  his  body  was 
covered  up  to  his  chin  by  a  sheet,  which  I  lifted. 
On  his  throat  were  the  marks  of  five  fingers  which 


THE     DEAD     HAND 

had  pressed  deeply  into  his  flesh,  and  his  shirt  was 
stained  by  a  few  drops  of  blood.  At  that  moment 
something  struck  me.  I  glanced  at  the  bedroom  bell; 
the  skinned  hand  had  disappeared.  Doubtless  the 
doctors  had  taken  it  away  to  spare  the  feehngs  of 
the  people  who  came  into  the  patient's  room,  for 
that  hand  was  really  dreadful.  I  did  not  ask  what 
had  become  of  it. 

I  now  take  a  cutting  from  one  of  the  next  day's 
papers,  giving  the  story  of  the  crime,  with  all  the 
details  the  police  could  procure.  This  is  what  it 
said : 

"A  horrible  outrage  was  committed  yesterday, 
the    victim    being   a    young   gentleman,    Monsieur 

Pierre    B ,    a    law    student,  and    a  member  of 

one  of  the  best  families  in  Normandy.  The  young 
man  returned  home  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening, 
he  dismissed  his  servant,  a  man  named  Bonvin, 
saying  he  was  tired,  and  that  he  was  going  to  bed. 
Towards  midnight  this  man  was  aroused  suddenly 
by  his  master's  bell,  which  was  ringing  furiously. 
He  was  frightened,  lit  a  lamp  and  waited.  The 
bell  stopped  for  a  minute,  then  rang  again  with  such 
violence  that  the  servant,  frightened  out  of  his  wits, 
rushed  out  of  his  room  and  went  to  wake  up  the 
concierge.  The  latter  ran  and  notified  the  police, 
and  about  fifteen  minutes  later  they  burst  in  the 
door. 

"A  terrible  sight  met  their  eyes.  The  furniture 
was  all  upset,  and  everything  indicated  that  a 
fearful  struggle  had  taken  place  between  the  victim 

and  his  aggressor.    Young  Pierre  B was  lying 

motionless  on  his  back  in  the  middle  of  the  room, 

C2333 


THE     DEAD     HAND 

his  face  livid,  and  his  eyes  dilated  in  the  most 
dreadful  fashion.  His  throat  bore  the  deep  marks  of 
five  fingers.  The  report  of  Doctor  Bourdeau,  who 
was  immediately  summoned,  states  that  the  aggres- 
sor must  have  been  endowed  with  prodigious 
strength,  and  have  had  an  extraordinarily  thin 
and  muscular  hand,  for  the  fingers  had  almost  met 
in  the  flesh,  and  left  five  marks  hke  bullet  holes  in 
the  throat.  No  motive  for  the  crime  can  be  dis- 
covered,  nor   the   identity   of  the   criminal." 

The  next  day  the  same  newspaper  reported: 

M.  Pierre  B ,  the  victim  of  the  awful  outrage 

which  we  related  yesterday,  recovered  consciousness 
after  two  hours  of  devoted  attention  on  the  part 
of  Doctor  Bourdeau.  His  fife  is  not  in  danger,  but 
fears  are  entertained  for  his  sanity.  No  trace  of 
the  guilty  party  has  been  found." 

It  was  true,  my  poor  friend  was  mad.  For  seven 
months  I  went  every  day  to  see  him  at  the  hospital, 
but  he  did  not  recover  the  sfightest  gfimmering 
of  reason.  In  his  defirium  strange  words  escaped 
him,  and  hke  all  insane  people,  he  had  an  obsession, 
and  always  fancied  a  spectre  was  pursuing  him. 
One  day  I  was  sent  for  in  great  haste,  with  a  message 
that  he  was  worse.  He  was  dying  when  I  reached 
him.  He  remained  very  calm  for  two  hours,  then 
all  of  a  sudden,  in  spite  of  our  efforts,  he  sat  up  in 
bed,  and  shouted,  waving  his  arms  as  if  in  prey  to 
mortal  terror:  "Take  it!  Take  it!  He  is  strangfing 
me!  Help!  Help!"  He  ran  twice  around  the  room 
screaming,  then  he  fell  dead,  with  his  face  to  the 
ground. 

As  he  was  an  orphan,  it  was  my  duty  to  follow 

C  234  H 


TH  E     DEAD     HAND 

his  remains  to  the  little  village  of  P in  Nor- 
mandy, where  his  parents  were  buried.  It  was 
from  this  village  that  he  came  on  the  evening  when 
he  found  us  drinking  punch  at  Louis  R.'s,  where 
he  had  shown  us  the  skinned  hand.  His  body  was 
enclosed  in  a  leaden  coffin,  and  four  days  later 
I  was  walking  sadly,  with  the  old  priest  who  had 
first  taught  him  to  read  and  write,  in  the  httle 
cemetery  where  his  grave  was  being  dug.  The 
weather  was  glorious;  the  blue  sky  was  flooded  with 
hght;  the  birds  were  singing  in  the  hedgerows, 
where  we  had  gone  so  often  as  children  to  eat 
blackberries.  I  fancied  I  could  see  him  again  creep- 
ing along  the  hedge  and  sHpping  in  through  the 
httle  hole  which  I  knew  so  well,  down  there  at  the 
end  of  the  paupers'  plot.  Then  we  used  to  return 
to  the  house,  with  our  cheeks  and  hps  black  with 
the  juice  of  the  fruit  we  had  eaten.  I  looked  at 
the  bramble-bushes;  they  were  covered  with  berries. 
I  mechanically  plucked  one  and  put  it  into  my 
mouth.  The  priest  had  opened  his  breviary  and 
was  murmuring  his  oremus.  At  the  end  of  the 
avenue  I  could  hear  the  spades  of  the  grave-diggers, 
as   they   dug   his   tomb. 

Suddenly  they  called  to  us,  the  priest  closed  his 
prayer-book,  and  we  went  to  see  what  they  wanted. 
They  had  turned  up  a  coffin.  With  a  stroke  of 
their  picks  they  knocked  off  the  lid,  and  we  saw  an 
unusually  tall  skeleton,  lying  on  its  back,  whose 
empty  eyes  seemed  to  be  looking  at  us  defiantly. 
I  had  a  queer  sensation,  for  some  unknown  reason, 
and  was  almost  afraid.  "Hello!"  cried  one  of  the 
men,  "look,  the  ruffian's  hand  is  cut  off.     Here  it 

C2353 


THE     DEAD     HAND 

is."  And  he  picked  up  a  big,  dried-up  hand,  which 
was  lying  beside  the  body,  and  handed  it  to  us. 
*'  I  say,"  said  the  other  man  laughing, "  you  would 
think  that  he  was  watching  you,  and  that  he  was  going 
to  spring  at  your  throat  and  make  you  give  him 
back  his  hand." 

"Come  along,"  said  the  priest,  "leave  the  dead 
in  peace,  and  close  that  coffin  again.  We  will  dig  a 
grave  somewhere  else  for  poor  Monsieur  Pierre." 

Everything  was  finished  the  next  day  and  I  set 
out  for  Paris  again,  after  having  left  fifty  francs 
with  the  old  priest  for  masses  for  the  repose  of  the 
soul  of  the  man  whose  grave  we  had  disturbed. 


1:236: 


AT    THE    CHURCH    DOOR 

HE  USED  to  live  in  a  little  house  near  the 
main  road  at  the  entrance  to  a  village. 
After  he  married  the  daughter  of  a  farmer  in 
the  district  he  set  up  as  a  wheelwright,  and  as  they 
both  worked  hard,  they  amassed  a  small  fortune. 
But  one  thing  caused  them  great  sorrow;  they  had 
no  children.  At  last  a  child  was  born  to  them,  and 
they  called  him  Jean.  They  showered  kisses  upon 
him,  wrapped  him  up  in  their  affection,  and  became 
so  fond  of  him  that  they  could  not  let  an  hour  pass 
without  seeing  him.  When  he  was  five  years  old 
a  circus  passed  through  the  village  and  pitched  its 
tent  on  the  square  in  front  of  the  Town  Hall. 

Jean  had  seen  them  and  had  slipped  out  of  the 
house.  After  a  long  search  his  father  discovered  him 
in  the  midst  of  the  trained  goats  and  dogs.  He 
was  sitting  on  the  knee  of  an  old  clown  and  was 
shouting  with  laughter. 

Three  days  later,  at  dinner  time,  just  as  they  were 
sitting  down  to  table,  the  wheelwright  and  his  wife 
discovered  that  their  son  was  not  in  the  house. 
They  looked  in  the  garden,  and  as  they  did  not 
find  him  there,  the  father  went  to  the  roadside  and 
shouted  with   all   his   might:     "Jean!" 

Night  was  falling,  and  a  brownish  mist  filled  the 
horizon,  and  everything  retreated  into  the  dark  and 

C2373 


AT    THE     CHURCH     DOOR 

gloomy  distance.  Three  tall  fir-trees  close  by  seemed 
to  be  weeping.  No  voice  replied,  but  the  air  was 
full  of  vague  moaning.  The  father  listened  for  a 
long  time,  beheving  that  he  could  hear  something, 
now  on  his  right  now  on  his  left,  and  he  plunged 
wildly  into  the  night,  calhng  incessantly:  "Jean! 
Jean!" 

He  ran  on  until  daybreak,  filhng  the  shadows  with 
his  cries,  frightening  the  prowling  animals,  his 
heart  torn  by  a  terrible  anguish,  so  that  at  times  he 
thought  he  was  going  mad.  His  wife  remained 
seated  at  the  door,  and  wept  until  morning.  Their 
son  was  never   found. 

From  that  time  they  aged  rapidly  in  their  sorrow, 
which  nothing  could  console.  Finally  they  sold 
their  house  and  set  out  to  look  for  their  son  them- 
selves. They  questioned  the  shepherds  on  the  hills, 
the  passing  tradesmen,  the  peasants  in  the  villages 
and  the  authorities  in  the  towns.  But  it  was  a 
long  time  since  their  son  had  been  lost.  Nobody 
knew  anything,  and  probably  he  himself  had  now 
forgotten  his  name  and  his  birthplace.  They  wept 
and  lost  all  hope.  Very  soon  their  money  was  ex- 
hausted, and  they  hired  themselves  out  by  the  day 
to  the  farmers  and  innkeepers,  discharging  the 
most  humble  tasks,  living  on  the  leavings  of  others, 
sleeping  out  of  doors  and  suffering  from  cold.  But 
as  they  became  feeble  from  overwork,  nobody 
would  employ  them,  and  they  were  compelled  to 
beg  along  the  roads.  They  accosted  travellers  with 
sad  faces  and  supplicating  voices,  imploring  a  piece 
of  bread  from  the  harvesters  eating  their  dinner 
beneath   a  tree,   at   midday   in   the   fields.     They 

C238: 


AT    THE    CHURCH    DOOR 

devoured  it  in  silence,  seated  on  the  edge  of  the 
ditches.  An  innkeeper  to  whom  they  related  their 
misfortunes,  said  to  them  one  day: 

"I  also  knew  someone  who  lost  a  daughter;  it 
was  in  Paris  he  found  her." 

Immediately  they  set  out  for  Paris. 

When  they  reached  the  great  city  they  were 
frightened  by  its  size  and  by  the  crowds  in  the 
streets.  But  they  reahsed  that  he  must  be  amongst 
all  these  people,  without  knowing  how  to  set  about 
finding  him.  Then  they  were  afraid  they  would 
not  recognise  him,  for  they  had  not  seen  him  for 
fifteen  years.  They  visited  every  street  and  square, 
stopping  wherever  they  saw  a  crowd  gathered,  in 
the  hope  of  a  chance  meeting,  some  prodigious 
stroke  of  luck,  an  act  of  pity  on  the  part  of  Fate. 
They  would  often  wander  blindly  ahead,  clinging 
to  each  other,  and  looking  so  sad  and  so  poor  that 
people  gave  them  alms  without  being  asked.  Every 
Sunday  they  spent  the  day  in  front  of  the  churches, 
watching  the  crowds  going  in  and  out,  and  scanning 
each  face  for  a  distant  resemblance.  Several  times 
they  fancied  they  recognised  him,  but  they  were 
always  mistaken. 

At  the  door  of  one  of  the  churches  to  which  they 
returned  most  frequently  there  was  an  old  man  who 
sprinkled  holy  water,  and  who  had  become  their 
friend.  His  own  story  was  also  very  sad,  and  their 
commiseration  for  him  led  to  a  great  friendship 
between  them.  They  finally  lived  together  in  a 
wretched  garret  at  the  top  of  a  big  house,  a  great 
distance  out,  near  the  open  fields,  and  sometimes 
the  wheelwright  took  his  new  friend's  place  at  the 

n239ll 


AT    THE    CHURCH     DOOR 

church,  when  the  old  man  was  ill.  One  very  harsh 
winter  came,  the  old  sprinkler  of  holy  water  died, 
and  the  parish  priest  appointed  in  his  place  the 
wheelwright,  of  whose  misfortunes  he  had  heard. 

Then  he  came  every  morning  and  seated  him- 
self in  the  same  place,  on  the  same  chair,  wearing 
out  the  old  stone  column  against  which  he  leant 
with  the  continual  rubbing  of  his  back.  He  gazed 
fixedly  at  every  man  who  entered,  and  he  looked 
forward  to  Sunday  with  the  impatience  of  a  school- 
boy, because  that  was  the  day  when  the  church  was 
constantly  full  of  people. 

He  grew  very  old,  getting  weaker  and  weaker 
under  the  damp  arches,  and  every  day  his  hope 
crumbled  away.  By  this  time  he  knew  everyone 
who  came  to  mass,  their  hours,  their  habits,  and 
he  could  recognise  their  steps  on  the  tiled  floor. 
His  life  had  become  so  narrowed  that  it  was  a  great 
event  for  him  when  a  stranger  entered  the  church. 
One  day  two  ladies  came;  one  old  and  the  other 
young.  Probably  a  mother  and  daughter,  he 
thought.  Behind  them  a  young  man  appeared, 
who  followed  them,  and  when  they  went  out  he 
saluted  them.  After  having  offered  them  holy  water 
he  took  the  arm  of  the  older  lady. 

"That  must  be  the  young  lady's  intended," 
thought  the  wheelwright. 

For  the  rest  of  the  day  he  racked  his  memory  to 
discover  where  he  once  had  seen  a  young  man  like 
that.  But  the  one  he  was  thinking  of  must  now  be 
an  old  man,  for  he  seemed  to  have  known  him  away 
back  in  his  youth. 

The  same  man  came  back  frequently  to  escort 

C  2403 


AT    THE    CHURCH    DOOR 

the  two  ladies,  and  this  vague  resemblance,  remote 
yet  familiar,  which  he  could  not  identify,  obsessed 
the  old  man  so  much  that  he  made  his  wife  come  to 
aid  his  feeble  memory. 

One  evening,  as  it  was  getting  dark,  the  stran- 
gers entered  together.  When  they  had  passed,  the 
husband  said: 

"Well,  do  you  know  who  he  is?" 

His  wife  was  troubled  and  tried,  in  turn,  to  re- 
member.    Suddenly  she  whispered: 

"Yes  .  .  .  yes  .  .  .  but  he  is  darker,  taller, 
stronger,  and  dressed  Hke  a  gentlemen,  yet,  father, 
he  has  the  same  face,  you  know,  as  you  had  when 
you  were  young." 

The  old  man  gave  a  start. 

It  was  true,  the  young  man  resembled  him,  and 
he  resembled  his  brother  who  was  dead,  and  his 
father,  whom  he  remembered  while  he  was  still 
young.  They  were  so  deeply  stirred  that  they  could 
not  speak.  The  three  people  were  coming  down 
the  aisle  and  going  out.  The  man  touched  the 
sprinkler  with  his  fmger,  and  the  old  man  who  was 
holding  it  shook  so  much  that  the  holy  water  rained 
upon  the  ground. 

"Jean?"  he  cried. 

The  man  stopped  and  looked  at  him. 

"Jean?"  he  repeated  softly. 

The  two  ladies  looked  at  him  in  astonishment. 

Then  for  the  third  time  he  said,  sobbing:  "Jean?" 

The  man  stooped  and  looked  closely  into  his 
face,  then  a  recollection  of  childhood  flashed  in  his 
mind,  and  he  replied: 

"Father  Pierre  and  mother  Jeanne!" 
I  241  2 


AT    THE    CHURCH     DOOR 

He  had  forgotten  everything,  his  father's  other 
name,  and  that  of  his  own  birthplace,  but  he  still 
remembered  these  two  words,  so  often  repeated: 
''Father   Pierre;    mother   Jeanne!" 

He  knelt  down  with  his  head  on  the  knees  of  the 
old  man  and  wept.  Then  he  kissed  his  father  and 
mother  by  turns,  while  their  voices  were  choked 
by  joy  unlimited.  The  two  ladies  also  cried,  for 
they  reahsed  that  great  happiness  had  come.  They 
all  went  home  with  the  young  man,  who  told  them 
his  story. 

The  circus  people  had  kidnapped  him,  and  for 
three  years  he  had  travelled  with  them  through 
many  countries.  Then  the  company  broke  up, 
and  one  day  an  old  lady  in  a  chateau  gave  a  sum 
of  money  to  adopt  him,  because  she  hked  him. 
As  he  was  intelligent,  they  sent  him  to  school  and 
college,  and,  as  the  old  lady  had  no  children,  she 
left  her  fortune  to  him.  He  also  had  searched  for 
his  parents,  but  as  the  only  thing  he  could  remember 
was  the  two  names,  "father  Pierre  and  mother 
Jeanne,"  he  could  not  discover  them.  Now  he 
was  going  to  be  married,  and  he  introduced  his 
fiancee,  who  was  as  good  as  she  was  pretty. 

When  the  two  old  people,  in  their  turn,  had  re- 
lated their  sorrows  and  sufferings,  they  embraced 
him  again,  and  that  night  they  stayed  awake  very 
late,  for  they  were  afraid  to  go  to  bed  lest  happiness, 
which  had  evaded  them  so  long,  should  abandon 
them  once  more,  when  they  were  asleep.  But  they 
had  exhausted  the  endurance  of  misfortune,  and 
lived  happily  till  the  end. 


L  I  E  U  TENANT    LAKE'S 
MARRIAGE 

AT  THE  very  beginning  of  the  campaign 
Lieutenant  Lare  took  two  guns  from  the 
Prussians.  The  general  said  tersely: 
"Thanks,  Lieutenant,"  and  gave  him  the  cross  of 
the  Legion  of  Honour.  Being  as  prudent  as  he  was 
brave,  subtle,  inventive,  and  very  resourceful,  he 
was  placed  in  charge  of  some  hundred  men,  and  he 
organised  a  service  of  scouts  which  saved  the  army 
several  times  during  retreats. 

Like  a  tidal  wave  the  invaders  poured  over  the 
entire  frontier,  wave  after  wave  of  men,  leaving 
behind  them  the  scum  of  pillage.  General  Carrel's 
brigade  was  separated  from  its  division,  and  had  to 
retreat  continuously,  taking  part  in  daily  engage- 
ments, but  preserving  its  ranks  almost  intact, 
thanks  to  the  vigilance  and  speed  of  Lieutenant 
Lare,  who  seemed  to  be  everywhere  at  once,  out- 
witting the  enemy,  disappointing  their  calculations, 
leading  the  Uhlans  astray,  and  kilHng  their  out- 
posts. 

One  morning  the  general  sent  for  him. 

"Lieutenant,"  he  said,  "here  is  a  telegram  from 
General  de  Lacere,  who  will  be  lost  if  we  do  not 
come  to  his  help  by  to-morrow  at  dawn.  You  will 
start  at  dusk  with  three  hundred  men,  whom  you 

11243!] 


LIEUTENANT    LAKE'S    MARRIAGE 

will  Station  all  along  the  road.  I  shall  follow  two 
hours  later.  Reconnoitre  the  route  carefully.  I 
do  not  want  to  run  into  an  enemy  division." 

It  had  been  freezing  hard  for  a  week.  At  two 
o'clock  it  began  to  snow,  by  the  evening  the  ground 
was  covered,  and  heavy  snowflakes  obscured  the 
closest  objects.  At  six  o'clock  the  detachment 
set  out.  Two  men  by  themselves  marched  ahead 
to  act  as  scouts.  Then  came  a  platoon  of  ten  men 
commanded  by  the  lieutenant  himself.  The  re- 
mainder advanced  in  two  long  columns.  A  couple 
of  hundred  yards  away  on  the  left  and  right  flanks 
a  few  soldiers  marched  in  couples.  The  snow, 
which  was  still  falling,  powdered  them  white  in 
the  darkening  shadows,  and,  as  it  did  not  melt  on 
their  uniforms,  they  were  barely  distinguishable  in 
the  dark  from  the  general  pallor  of  the  landscape. 

From  time  to  time  they  halted,  and  then  not  a 
sound  could  be  heard  but  that  imperceptible  rustle 
of  falling  snow,  a  vague  and  sinister  sound,  which 
is  felt  rather  than  heard.  An  order  was  given  in 
whispers,  and  when  the  march  was  resumed  they 
had  left  behind  them  a  sort  of  white  phantom 
standing  in  the  snow,  growing  more  and  more 
indistinct  until  finally  it  disappeared.  These  were 
the  living  signposts  which  were  to  guide  the  army. 

The  scouts  slowed  their  pace.  Something  was 
looming  up  in  front  of  them. 

"Swing  to  the  right,"  said  the  lieutenant,  "that's 
the  woods  of  Ronfi;  the  chateau  is  more  to  the  left." 

Soon  the  command  to  halt  was  heard.  The  de- 
tachment stopped  and  waited  for  the  lieutenant, 
who,  escorted  by  only  ten  men,   had  gone  to  re- 

C2443 


LIEUTENANT     L A R E  '  S  ;  M A R R I A G E 

connoitre  the  chateau.  They  advanced,  creeping 
under  the  trees.  Suddenly  they  stopped  dead. 
A  frightful  silence  hovered  about  them,  then,  right 
beside  them  a  clear,  musical  little  voice  broke  the 
silence  of  the  woods,  saying: 

"Father,  we  shall  lose  our  way  in  the  snow.  We 
shall  never  reach  Blainville." 

A  deeper  voice  replied: 

"Don't  be  afraid,  my  child.  I  know  the  country 
as  well  as  the  back  of  my  hand." 

The  lieutenant  said  something,  and  four  men 
moved  off  noiselessly,  like  phantoms. 

All  at  once  the  piercing  cry  of  a  woman  rang  out 
in  the  night.  Two  prisoners  were  brought  to  him, 
an  old  man  and  a  little  girl,  and  the  lieutenant, 
still  speaking  in  whispers,  cross-examined  them. 

"Your  name?" 

"Pierre  Bernard." 

"Occupation?" 

"Comte  de  Ronfi's  butler." 

"Is  this  your  daughter?" 

"Yes." 

"What  does  she  do?" 

"She  is  a  sewing-maid  at  the  chateau." 

"Where  are  you  going  to?" 

"We  are  running  away." 

"Why?" 

"Twelve  Uhlans  passed  this  evening.  They  shot 
three  guards  and  hanged  the  gardener.  I  got 
frightened  about  the  child." 

"Where  are  you  going  to?" 

"Blainville." 

"Why?" 


LIEUTENANT    LAKE'S    MARRIAGE 

"Because  there  is  a  French  army  there." 

"Do  you  know  the  way?" 

"Perfectly." 

"All  right.     Follow  us." 

They  rejoined  the  column,  and  the  march  across 
the  fields  was  resumed.  The  old  man  walked  in 
silence  beside  the  heutenant.  His  daughter  marched 
beside  him.     Suddenly  she  stopped. 

"Father,"  she  said,  "I  am  so  tired  I  cannot  go 
any  farther." 

She  sat  down,  shaking  with  the  cold,  and  seemed 
ready  to  die.  Her  father  tried  to  carry  her,  but  he 
was  too  old  and  feeble. 

"Lieutenant,"  he  said,  with  a  sob,  "we  shall  be 
in  your  way.     France  comes  first.     Leave  us." 

The  officer  had  given  an  order,  and  several  men 
had  gone  off,  returning  with  some  cut  branches. 
In  a  moment  a  stretcher  was  made,  and  the  whole 
detachment  had  come  up. 

"There  is  a  woman  here  dying  of  cold,"  said  the 
lieutenant,   "who  will  give  a  coat  to  cover  her?" 

Two  hundred  coats  were  taken  off. 

"Now,  who  will  carry  her?" 

Every  arm  was  placed  at  her  disposal.  The  girl 
was  wrapped  in  the  warm  military  coats,  laid 
gently  upon  the  stretcher,  and  then  lifted  on  to  four 
robust  shoulders.  Like  an  Oriental  queen  carried 
by  her  slaves  she  was  placed  in  the  middle  of  the 
detachment,  which  continued  its  march,  more 
vigorously,  more  courageously  and  more  joyfully, 
warmed  by  the  presence  of  a  woman,  the  sovereign 
inspiration  to  which  the  ancient  blood  of  France 
owes  so  much  progress. 

C2463 


LIEUTENANT     LAKE'S     MARRIAGE 

After  an  hour  there  was  another  halt,  and  they 
all  lay  down  in  the  snow.  Away  off  in  the  middle  of 
the  plain  a  huge  black  shadow  was  running.  It  was 
hke  a  fantastic  monster,  which  stretched  out  hke 
a  snake,  then  suddenly  rolled  itself  up  in  a  ball, 
bounded  forward  wildly,  stopped  and  went  on  again. 
Whispered  orders  circulated  amongst  the  men,  and 
from  time  to  time  a  httle,  sharp,  metallic  noise  re- 
sounded. The  wandering  object  suddenly  came 
nearer,  and  twelve  Uhlans  were  seen  trotting  at  full 
speed,  one  after  the  other,  having  lost  their  way 
in  the  night.  A  terrible  flash  suddenly  revealed 
two  hundred  men  lying  on  the  ground  in  front  of 
them.  A  brief  report  died  away  in  the  silence  of 
the  snow,  and  all  twelve,  with  their  twelve  horses, 
fell. 

After  a  long  wait  the  march  was  resumed,  the 
old  man  they  had  picked  up  acting  as  guide.  At 
length  a  distant  voice  shouted:  "Who  goes  there?" 
Another  voice  nearer  at  hand  gave  the  password. 
There  was  another  wait,  while  the  parley  proceeded. 
The  snow  had  ceased  to  faM.  A  cold  wind  swept  the 
sky,  behind  which  innu  lerable  stars  glittered. 
They  grew  pale  and  the  eastern  sky  became  pink. 

A  staff-officer  came  up  to  receive  the  detachment, 
but  just  as  he  was  asking  who  was  on  the  stretcher, 
the  latter  began  to  mov^,  two  little  hands  opened 
the  heavy  coats,  and  a  inarming  little  face,  as  pink 
as  the  dawn,  with  eyes  more  bright  than  the  stars 
which  had  disappeared,  rephed: 

"It  is  I,  Sir." 

The  delighted  soldiers  applauded,  and  carried 
the  girl  in  triumph  right  into  the  middle  of  the  camp 

L247II 


LIEUTENANT     LAKE'S     MARRIAGE 

where  the  arms  were  stored.  Soon  afterwaras 
General  Carrel  arrived.  At  nine  o'clock  the  Prus- 
sians attacked.     At  noon  they  retreated. 

That  evening,  as  Lieutenant  Lare  was  dropping 
off  to  sleep  on  a  heap  of  straw,  utterly  worn  out, 
the  general  sent  for  him.  He  found  him  in  his  tent 
chatting  with  the  old  man  whom  they  had  picked 
up  during  the  night.  As  soon  as  he  entered  the 
general  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  turned  to  the 
stranger: 

"My  dear  comte,'*  said  he,  "here  is  the  young 
man  of  whom  you  were  speaking  a  while  back. 
He  is  one  of  my  best  officers." 

He  smiled,   lowered   his   voice,   and   repeated: 

"The  best." 

Then,  turning  to  the  astonished  Heutenant,  he 
introduced  "Comte  de  Ronfi-Quedissac." 

The  old  gentleman  seized  his  two  hands: 

"My  dear  lieutenant,  you  have  saved  my  daugh- 
ter's life,  and  there  is  only  one  way  in  which  I  can 
thank  you.  .  .  .  You  will  come  in  a  few  months' 
time  and  tell  me  .  .  .  v  hether  you  Hke  her.  .  .  . 

Exactly  one  year  late,  to  the  day,  in  the  Church 
of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  Captain  Lare  was  married  to 
Mademoiselle  Louise  Hortense  Genevieve  de  Ronfi- 
Quedissac.  She  brought  with  her  a  dowry  of  six 
hundred  thousand  francs>  and  they  say  she  was  the 
prettiest  bride  of  the  year. 


1:2483 


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